Meltdown
by SydneyRaineOfficial
Summary: In a single moment, the world as we know it can change. The Apocalyptic AU that no one asked for but I wrote anyway. Rebellious Clarke begrudgingly teams up with Nerd Bellamy when terrorists attack nuclear stations, causing a national crisis. She will have to learn how to trust again before they can figure out what's going on, and more importantly, how to survive.
1. Chapter 1

I couldn't help but roll my eyes while my mother lectured me. It wasn't the first time I'd heard the speech and I could quote her before the words even left her mouth.

You need to be more responsible Clarke.

This risky behavior has got to stop Clarke.

What am I going to do with you Clarke?

Don't you ever _think_ Clarke?

One of these days you're going to end up in jail Clarke.

What is it going to take to get through to you Clarke?

Blah, blah, blah.

Maybe someday she would get it through _her_ head that I didn't really care about _her_ plan for _my_ future? I didn't want to be a doctor, like her and my dad. I had no intention of being a lawyer, or a teacher, or an accountant. I barely made it through high school so why would I even entertain the idea of endless years of higher education? I'd only been eighteen for a few months, so I didn't see a reason to have my whole life planned out already.

Besides, I see all of the hours they put in for their fancy jobs, and for what?

We have a nice house. That they never see.

They have nice cars. That they only drive to and from work.

They have a closet full of expensive designer clothes and all of the best toys money can buy, but they wear scrubs and lab coats 24/7 and are too tired after work to even think about playing.

If that's the kind of future they want me to have, I want no part of it.

"You're going to have to do community service this time, Clarke."

That was a new one, and it snapped me back to attention. "What?"

"I can't keep covering for you all of the time. My list of people who owe me favors is getting pretty short because of you." My mother, the esteemed Dr. Abby Bartlett-Griffin, slumped back on the couch and sighed into her coffee cup. "You went too far this time."

"Too far? So I tagged a few walls. It was paint, not blood. Besides, the place is abandoned anyway."

I looked down at my hands, still stained with the bright red spray paint that I'd just used to redecorate an old foundry building with. I wondered how my best friend was faring. At least the cops always let my parents deal with my shenanigans. Murphy was probably sitting in jail right now.

"Clarke…" The exasperation in her voice doubled. "That building is owned by Congressman Jenkins. You should've known better than to put graffiti anywhere. But Jenkins' place? Too far…"

I rolled my eyes again and popped my bubblegum. "So what's my big punishment?"

"You're going to do Community Service." She answered without looking up from her steaming mug. "You are going to work at the hospital for the next month; full time, every day. I'll let you choose between assisting me in the emergency room or your father in his lab."

"WHAT?!"

I was beside myself. A whole month being cooped up in that place! I could already taste the disinfectant and disease that fragranced the hospital.

"Don't bother going out tonight, either. You're grounded to the house until you put in all one hundred and sixty hours and I don't want you anywhere near John Murphy."

Now she was being ridiculous. I was a legal adult for Heaven's sake! She couldn't _ground me_ or choose my friends! I opened my mouth to protest, but she wasn't listening anymore, just like usual.

Spinning on my heels, I stormed out of the room, pausing in the doorway just long enough to give her a hand gesture that would've given her reason to punish me even more.

Upstairs in my room, I threw myself onto my oversized bed and pouted. My mother was stupid if she thought she could control me. I was born a free spirit and I would die a free spirit. I refused to conform to their ideas and dreams.

If I had to work at the hospital, it should be on my own terms. Did she really want patients being cared for by someone who didn't want to be there? It just proved that my parents were pretty crummy doctors if they wanted to put me in the same room with sick people.

Maybe I should just run away? Move in with Murphy and his brother Andrew. They'd been my best, and only, friends for two years now and I crashed at their place practically every weekend anyway. They lived with their mother in a small, two-bedroom apartment. Atom had a wife and kid there too, so there probably wasn't any room for me.

Fine, I thought. One month wouldn't kill me.

It might make me kill them, but I'd come out of it alive.

It was time to figure out the best way to make them hate me being there enough to drop the whole idea. Hopping up, I walked across the room and studied my reflection in the mirror.

My blonde hair hung down below my shoulders, cascading in pretty waves. At least, it would if I didn't always tuck it under a cap or twist it in a tangled ponytail. By my mother's standards, I wore too much makeup. I liked the bright colors against my pale skin tones. It made me feel like a walking piece of art or something. Besides, I'd noticed recently that if you look like you might be trouble, people stay away.

And I liked that idea.

The diamond stud in my nose caught the light and sparkled. I could remember the fit my parents threw like it was just yesterday. Now that I was an adult, there was nothing they could do about it if I wanted to pierce anything else. For that matter, I knew exactly how to tick them off. Grabbing my knapsack, I looked out my window to make sure our normally quiet neighborhood didn't have anyone out on the sidewalks before climbing out to make my way to the other side of our rural town.

Maverick was one of those towns you'd miss if you blinked while driving through. We had one school, three factories and a small three story medical center. You can't buy a beer on Sundays and no one would ever dream of missing a high school football game. Everyone knew each other and no one had any secrets. The only people who bothered to knock on your door before walking in were the Jehovah Witnesses.

Living here was stifling, to say the least.

I had to keep to the shadows while I walked down the garden-like streets to avoid being noticed by someone who would surely call my mother and bust me out. It didn't take too long for me to reach the local skate park where my crew usually hung out.

Just as I'd suspected, there was a small cluster of kids gathered at the far edge of the ramps. I'd gone to school with most of them, even though I didn't really hang out with them other than here in the park. If it weren't for the fact that they were all friends of Murphy and Atom, I wouldn't hang out with them at all. I liked my social circle being small but my parties big. Every time I came here though, it was a reminder that my circle was made of three, instead of four.

Picking out the familiar face I'd hoped to see, I approached him and made a few arrangements. After a small exchange of cash and a few hours of pain, I landed in my bed and tried to fall asleep.

Monday morning came a lot sooner than I'd ever wanted it to. With an exhausted groan, I pulled myself up out of my tangled sheets and stumbled to the bathroom. It was a shock to see myself in the mirror. Last night, I'd let Atom's wife Carrie dye bright pink streaks into my hair. With my smeared makeup, I looked like someone from a bad 1990s rock music video.

I pulled the fresh bandages away from my neck and arm and admired the new tattoos Atom had inked on me last night.

 _Are you serious? I thought for sure you'd chicken out. You know, Noah would be pretty stoked if he was here to see this. Who's the other sparrow for? I wish Murphy was here to see this. He'll be dying to once he gets out of county lock up._

And so on and so forth.

Atom talked the entire time. There were a few moments when I thought I was going to pass out from the pain, but I managed to stay alert the whole time. Right behind my ear, he'd drawn a beautifully colorful sparrow on my neck. The entire inside of my lower arm was covered with a quote that I'd always loved, featuring yet another sparrow in flight.

A small smile threatened to cross my features, but I swallowed it and took a shower. By the time I'd painted my face and gotten dressed in baggy cargo pants that hung low on my waist and a super tight black tank top it was already eight thirty.

Finally making it across town to the hospital, I was only an hour late. I didn't bother going to the emergency department. Even though I lived in a small town, I knew that there was rarely a time when they didn't have at least one patient there.

I wasn't about to be forced to clean up blood.

Or vomit.

Instead, I headed down to the basement to my father's "lab". It was here that he spent most of his life doing various studies that had something to do with crazy people. The door to the lab was propped open and I could hear laughter and horribly off-key singing coming from inside. Boldly waltzing in, I found my father in the middle of some kind of celebration with a guy and a girl that looked just a little bit older than me, but not half as cool as the kids I usually hung out with.

The girl was the same height as me, about five and a half feet tall, but not nearly as skinny. Her mousy brown hair was neatly pulled back into a tight bun. She had on hideous tortoise shell glasses and was wearing a frumpy cardigan and pencil skirt. She wore a huge smile that revealed somewhat crooked teeth, but it made her seem like she was pretty happy being the Queen Geek.

The guy would have been a little over six feet if he wasn't slouching. His back was to me, so I couldn't see his face, but he wore a dress shirt and slacks along with high top tennis shoes. His dark hair hung in wild curls to his shoulders. Not in a cool bad-boy way, but in a way that said _I'm too much of a nerd studying so much I don't have time to get a decent haircut._ For all I knew, he cut it himself.

I interrupted a goodbye toast by clearing my throat loudly and giving my father a mock military salute. "Prisoner Griffin reporting for duty," I said rolling my eyes and popping my ever-present bubble gum.

My father came over to me and tried to involve me in their little party. "You're just in time for some cake. The frosting matches your new hair color."

He motioned toward a tray of store bought cupcakes and a computer printed sign that read _Bon Voyage! Our Loss, Bethesda's Gain!_

"Yay!" I mimicked his happy tone sarcastically.

"This is Bellamy Blake and Jennifer Stephens, my research assistants." He introduced. "This is my daughter Clarke."

Bellamy barely acknowledged my existence and never even turned to look at me, but Jennifer came over and grabbed me in a tight hug. "I'm glad I got to finally meet you. I've heard so much."

"I bet." I replied stiffly, backing away from her embrace without returning it. I could only imagine the horror stories my parents must tell people at the hospital about me. "So who's off to Washington DC?" I silently prayed that the answer was both of them. I didn't think I could handle a whole month of being cooped up with a real life nerd.

My father smiled broadly. "Jennifer has been accepted to do her PhD thesis there. We are very proud of her!"

I couldn't help but be a little bitter about the way my father was acting. It would've been nice to have him talk about me like that once or twice.

Shrugging it off, I looked around the small room. "So what am I gonna do here? Take out the trash and make coffee?"

My father, the distinguished psychiatrist Dr. Jake Griffin, rubbed his chin. "Charting and computer entry?" As if he was asking my permission? His gaze stopped on my neck and I watched his eyes narrow a little bit but he didn't say anything. "And if we don't have enough to keep you busy, you could always help your mother in the ER."

"No thanks," I popped my gum. "I'd rather take out trash all day. Shouldn't we be getting to work?" I knew it was rude to abruptly put an end to the festivities but I really didn't care. I didn't know the girl, so it didn't matter to me one bit that she was leaving.

"You're right," my father conceded. "I have three patients waiting as it is." He hugged Jennifer one more time and made her promise to keep in touch before gathering a thick medical file and leaving the room.


	2. Chapter 2

I stood there looking like an idiot, wondering what exactly it was that I was supposed to be doing. Jennifer noticed and turned to point to the pair of desks that sat side by side at the back of the cramped office.

"You'll be here, at my old desk." She led me over, past a few weird machines and file cabinets and a huge white board with a bunch of scribbling all over it. Charts and graphs were hanging up on all of the walls, none of which depicting anything I understood and a dissected human brain sat on the cabinet that separated her desk from Bellamy's. She sat down at the desk and pulled up a computer program. "It's easy really. Just take Dr. Jake and Bellamy's notes and type them in. Half of the time it's like reading hieroglyphs but after a bit, you'll get the hang of it."

Jennifer laughed at her own joke. I half paid attention to her and half paid attention to Bellamy, who was silently packing up the left over pastries and wiping crumbs off of the table.

"Sometimes Dr. Jake might need you in the lab to chart reactions and interview patients but I don't know how often that will come up if at all. And if you have any questions, I'm sure Bellamy will be happy to answer them for you."

With that, Bellamy looked up, his face mostly obscured by his floppy hair, startled by the sound of his own name. "Uh…" he stammered with a confused and terrified look on his face.

"I have to go if I'm going to make it to the airport on time, but here's a list of all of the passwords you will need to get into the system. After you're in, just change them to whatever you want. It's easy, I promise."

I nodded, raising my eyebrow in doubt. I didn't think there was anything 'easy' when it came to computer work. I couldn't even figure out how to get the internet to work on my cell phone until Murphy showed me how to do it. I gave her a cocky two thumbs up and took her place in the chair. Kicking my feet up on the desk, I watched her go over and hug Bellamy.

He seemed to hold on to her a little tighter than I'd expected. I suppressed my laughter.

Geek love was in the air.

They whispered something to each other and she kissed him on the cheek before ruffling his hair in a playful way. "Get a haircut" was her final comment before grabbing her satchel bag and leaving.

Bellamy fidgeted for a minute before awkwardly sitting down again with his back to me. I guessed he was too shy to actually start up a conversation and by the time over an hour of silence passed with me doing nothing but texting and posting random thoughts to online social networks, I couldn't take it anymore. "So where are these files I'm supposed to do?"

There was only so many sharpened pencils that I could throw up into the ceiling tiles and none of my friends were awake yet to return my text messages. Bellamy didn't even turn around. He just silently pointed to a tall stack of patient files that sat on the corner of my new desk. I groaned and pulled one down. Flipping it open, I found a whole lot of chicken scratch. I recognized my father's handwriting instantly and started to decipher it as best as I could.

After over two hours, I was only half way finished with the case notes of one patient. I still didn't have a clue what it was that my father was working on, but I did know something.

The woman who belongs to the case file is crazy.

Nuts.

Certifiable.

Should be committed.

I suppressed a giggle when that last thought popped up. She was already committed. That's why my father was her doctor. I pushed on, every now and then sneaking glances at Bellamy when he grunted or sighed or hopped up excitedly to get something out of a filing cabinet. At one point he rushed over to the white board and frantically erased an entire section, only to cover the blank surface with more scribbles. Whatever was going through his mind was on fast forward. I didn't think it was possible to write that fast, let alone understand what it all said. Even tipping my head sideways I couldn't find a single real word in all of the letters, symbols and arrows he was drawing.

"You don't talk much, do you?" I finally asked.

He ignored me, concentrating on whatever solution was unfolding in his nerd brain. Frustrated, I pulled out my phone and opened a music file. Pressing play, I turned up the volume and pretended to go back to work. I wasn't used to being ignored, but I wasn't about to let this weird guy know it was bugging me. Bopping my head to the beat, I started typing. Loudly.

After a few minutes, I heard him toss the marker on his desk. Turning around, I could see some very aggravated body language as he grabbed his empty coffee cup and headed out the door. I jumped up quickly and grabbed my phone before following him out.

"Lunch time?" I grinned playfully when I caught up to him. He had the leg stride to match his tall frame. I had a hard time walking casually and keeping up with him. "Is the food here any good?"

He just shrugged and abruptly turned to go upstairs. I followed, getting even angrier. Pretty soon I wouldn't be able to hide it anymore. It was time to turn the table. If he wanted to be a jerk, I could school him on how to do it right.

Without another word, I followed closely behind him in the cafeteria line. Putting more food on my tray than I would ever dare to eat, I made sure I was extremely close to him at the cashier counter. Leaning against him, I could feel every muscle in his body tense up at the moment of contact.

"We're together." I smiled sweetly at the woman while she rang up the two trays together. Bellamy had a stunned look on his face but still didn't say anything as I walked away without waiting to see if he'd actually pay for my food.

I'd just sat down at a table by the window when a familiar leather-jacketed guy walked into the cafeteria. I didn't need to see his face to know who he was. His disgruntled hair and cocky swagger said it all, and everyone in the room noticed when Maverick's most infamous bad boy walked into a room.

"Murphy!" I waved him over. He nodded his head once and ignored everyone he walked by. Spinning the chair around backwards, he sat straddling it and leaned onto the table. Taking the sandwich for himself, he began eating like he hadn't had a meal in weeks.

"How's the slave work going?" He talked around a mouthful of food. "Get fired yet?"

I laughed. "I wish, but give me a few days. It sucks. I'm stuck in a room smaller than a closet filled with papers about crazy people and the only company I have is the world's biggest nerd." I pointed in the direction of Bellamy whose nose was buried in a book while he ate his lunch.

"Wow, he looks a little…" Murphy laughed loudly, sending crumbs flying from his mouth. I swallowed a grimace when I noticed the backwash he left in my soda when he took a drink. "What's he like? Is your brain bleeding yet?"

"Well he'd be less annoying if someone would've come to my rescue a little earlier." I gave him a girly pout and batted my eyelashes at him.

"I hate your hair." He had always had a habit of blurting out whatever he was thinking, even if it changed the subject.

"I didn't change it to impress you, so who cares what you think?" I defended myself.

Murphy shrugged. "It just looks stupid. Show me your ink."

I held out my arm so he could inspect the artwork that was now permanently a part of my body. I could see a shadow cross his face as he leaned farther onto the table. "You know, Noah would think that's pretty cool. And then he'd yell at you for putting it on your arm."

I considered that for a second. He was probably right. I could imagine his tirade as if Noah was standing right next to me, screaming in my ear. I smiled at the thought.

Murphy stood up and wiped his face with the sleeve of his coat. "This place smells like death. Let's get out of here."

"Sure," I agreed. We had to pass Bellamy to get out of the cafeteria and I paused by his table. "Clock me out at five. Not a minute earlier or my parents will be pissed. Got it?"

Bellamy replied with another struck dumb silent look. I didn't wait for a reply. I figured I wouldn't get a verbal one anyway. On the way to the parking lot, I couldn't help but wonder if he could talk at all. Maybe it was some illness or disorder or something. Then again, he'd spoken to Jennifer before she'd left, and I'd clearly heard two male voices singing to her before I came in. Apparently whatever disorder he had was only in effect when I was around. Irritated, I spent the rest of the day at the skate park with Murphy and Atom.

"So what did the cops end up doing to you?" I couldn't help but feel a little guilty. We were equally to blame for vandalizing the warehouse, but his mom didn't have the money and influence that mine did to get him out of trouble.

Murphy shrugged and took a deep drag off of a cigarette. Blowing the smoke in circles, he watched them disappear into the sky. "I got a court date next month. We'll see."

"You'll probably get 90 days in county," Atom offered. "What are you planning to do this weekend?"

Murphy grinned wickedly. "The way I see it, I've got a mural to finish. They'd never expect me to return to the scene of the crime, right?" As he told us all about his plans to go and finish our interrupted paint job, I couldn't help but be a little worried.

"Actually, they say a criminal always returns to the scene of the crime. And that's how they get caught." Atom nodded in agreement with me.

Murphy just shook his head defiantly. "Na-uh. That's just murder and stuff where they have to revisit their victims for some psycho reason. They ain't gonna be watching me. But on a more important subject, you should ask Clarke about her new boyfriend."

"Ugh, that's a bad word." I punched him in the arm when he laughed and took his cigarette from him. I honestly didn't think I'd live long enough to be old enough to even think about a relationship with someone. Taking a quick puff and blowing it out hard, I smiled. "No boyfriends for this girl. Ever."

"We both know our girl will be alone forever. Isn't that what your new ink means?" Murphy grinned playfully at me. I just nodded in agreement. I owed no one an explanation; he could think whatever he wanted. "I've got a date tonight, so I won't be coming over unless you need me to."

I shook my head and gave him a grin. "I'll be fine. Is she hot?"

Murphy exhaled a lung's worth of smoke. "I sure hope so."

We spent the rest of the day just hanging out and doing a whole lot of nothing but laughing at stupid jokes and stories. That's what was so cool about hanging out with them; there were no expectations. We could sit in silence for hours and that was just fine. One of us would start a sentence and another could finish it. We were the three musketeers, just like everyone called us in high school.

For the rest of the week, every day seemed to be a repeat of Monday. Instead of leaving Bellamy alone to his thoughts, I took an evil delight in annoying him for the few hours each morning. If it wasn't rambling tales of my wicked partying ways, loud music playing or me popping my bubblegum, I made sure to incessantly tap my pencil against the desk. He didn't seem to jump up as often with new, grand scribbles to draw, but he never looked at me or said a word to me.

Not one word.

For four days.

In a row.

I made sure to get there no later than an hour late each day to check in with my father and at lunch time I left to meet up with my friends. Most of the time, we just sat around at the park, doing nothing and saying less. Every day, I made sure to call the ER just a little past five to let my mother know I was "heading home". Actually, I just left a message with the nurses, but it still counted.

Imagine my surprise when my father was waiting for me on Friday morning with a rather unpleasant look on his face.

Oh who am I kidding?

Unpleasant didn't begin to describe his expression. He was pissed when he called me into his office for a private meeting. I didn't even need to hear it.

I'd been busted.

Already.


	3. Chapter 3

I sat down in my father's overstuffed leather chair and put my lug-soled boots up on his desk. He followed right behind me but made no move to sit down. Instead, he stood with his arms crossed, clearly thinking up a new and more torturous punishment. I looked around the room, letting him know I had little concern over this situation.

His walls were covered with bookshelves and framed degrees and certificates. Photos peppered the walls here and there of prominent people he'd met; powerful people in the medical world as well as in the government. The biggest photo showed him in a friendly embrace with the President himself. The desk was very neat and organized. Files were properly stacked next to his computer. There was a fancy pen holder displaying an expensive set my mother had bought for him as a graduation gift from medical school. Filling the entire low shelf behind his desk was a collection of framed pictures that depicted my entire life in different stages. There was a collage of all 13 of my school photos along with several candid shots. I wasn't even aware that some of them had been taken.

Slowly turning my attention back to him, I raised my eyebrow in anticipation. "Well? Can we get this over with?"

"I get it, Clarke, I do. The hair, the piercings, and the tattoos are just a part of you trying to find yourself or maybe just your way of dealing with losing Noah. I even overlook the fact that the Murphy boy sleeps in your room every night because you seem to have less nightmares. But to lie to me? And you tried to get other people to lie for you?" He shook his head in disappointment.

"So Nerd-Boy tattled?" I couldn't help but challenge him.

"He didn't have to. I'm not blind and I'm not stupid. I know you've been leaving every day at noon."

"What does it matter? It's not like there's a ton of work for me to do anyway!"

"That's only because Bellamy stays here until nearly midnight to enter everything that you left behind so you can go party with your little friends!" It was the first time in my life that I could remember my father raise his voice at anyone other than my mother.

I was confused. Every morning when I came in, the stack was the same size as I'd left it. "I only have two more to do today and I'll be done for the week."

My father laughed. "You really think Monday's pile was all there was? There are at least seven files to be done _every day_ Clarke. Besides that, your job was to work on current patient files. Bellamy's involves a lot of research outside of the current workload."

I tried not to feel guilty. I liked being angry better. "So what are you going to do? Ground me for another month? Maybe until I'm thirty?"

He shook his head slowly, sadness and disappointment filling his eyes. "No, you can start working with your mother beginning Monday. You can do whatever you want today, but don't waste Bellamy's time. I need his mind on his own work, not yours. Go."

He opened the door and stood there, waiting for me to leave. Brushing past him, I stormed back into the closet office I knew Bellamy would be in. When I slammed the door behind me, he jumped a little and looked up at me for the first time since I'd met him.

"You told on me? Aren't you a little old to be acting like a third grader? So much for you clocking me out so I didn't get into trouble!" I watched him flinch with every word except for my last sentence. Behind his reading glasses, I could see he had deep brown eyes that seemed to tell a tired story all of their own. His angular facial features might've been attractive if he hadn't been such a geek.

Or a jerk.

Or a narc.

For the first time, he sat up straight and spoke to me in a very strong voice. "I never agreed to, you just assumed I would. I'm not the reason your father is upset with you. It's one thing to be rebellious and attention seeking. It's another to outright lie to someone, especially your parents."

"What do you know?"

Bellamy turned around and studied the paperwork in front of him again. "I know that too many people take their parents for granted and then it's too late."

"What kind of fortune cookie bologna is that?"

He turned toward me again but stopped before he could make eye contact.

"It means you should appreciate people before you lose them and end up alone."

It was the second time that week someone had referred to my future of loneliness. I sat down at my desk and angrily opened the top file. "Maybe if they acted like they gave a crap about me, I'd be able to appreciate them." I muttered.

I could barely make out the words Bellamy spoke softly. "A child who is allowed to be disrespectful to his parents with not have true respect for anyone."

"Huh?"

"Billy Graham," he mumbled. I couldn't tell if Bellamy was ignoring me now or if he was really that engrossed in his work but I couldn't help but think of what he'd just said.

Maybe I should lighten up on my father a little bit. After all, he seemed more disappointed than anything and honestly, that hurt to even think about. There used to be a time when he was my biggest cheerleader and always there for me at every piano recital, every school function, every important day in my life had him in it; until one day when it just stopped; the one day that I tried my best to never think about.

I turned my attention to the two files sitting on my desk and actually worked for the rest of the morning, ignoring the numerous texts and phone calls I'd been getting. When lunch came, I quietly followed Bellamy to the cafeteria again. This time, instead of sticking him with the bill, I cut in front of him and paid for both of us. He went to his usual table in the corner and I took my sandwich and soda back to the office. Since I'd nearly finished what little work I had to do that morning, I grabbed a few off of Bellamy's pile and sat down to have a working lunch. By the time he returned, I'd already finished some of the work and brewed a fresh pot of coffee for us.

He sat down at his desk, that constant look of confusion still on his face every time I caught him glancing at me. Not once did I turn on the music, or pop my gum, but I did catch myself tapping my pencil a few times.

Other than Murphy sneaking in at night, I followed the rules of my grounding for the weekend. The office was closed that following Tuesday and it didn't take much convincing to get my dad to let me go hang out with my friends for the Freedom Day celebrations.

Everyone gathered at the skate park, just like usual. We didn't have to fuss with a billion families gathered across town at the park but still enjoyed our own party. Several of the kids had snuck across state lines and procured enough fireworks to light up the sky for a while. Smoke bombs filled the air with colorful, foul smelling clouds. A keg was tapped and a bon fire was built off to the side. A loud music system was turned on and I spent the first several hours dancing and singing with my friends. I got so caught up in the revelries, I didn't bat an eyelash when someone handed me the karaoke microphone and turned on my favorite angry rock girl song. I played piano way better than I sang, but everyone was getting wasted, so no one seemed to notice or care.

Eventually, Murphy ended up sitting against a half pipe and I joined him. Plopping down between his legs, I laid back against his chest and started drumming my hands against his knees along with the music.

"I'm shocked you got up there and sang," he said.

I couldn't help but laugh. "Me too."

"Remember our freshman year when you and Noah did the talent contest at school?" He tugged on one of my ponytails.

I chuckled again and let my mind wander. It was Christmas and the school held the event to raise money for a local shelter's toy program. Noah and I rehearsed our routine for days. He dressed up in red skinny jeans, a bright red t-shirt and let the stubble on his chin grow for the whole week. On the day of the performance, he coated his spikey blonde hair with baby powder and walked around school saying "ho ho ho" all day long. By the time the curtains came up, everyone decided we were going to win even if I couldn't sing on key. I surprised them all, I thought. When the first notes of Santa Baby came out of the speakers, I started twirling my braids, acting like a little girl dressed in a long, flannel nightgown. I managed to portray a spoiled little brat without being too over the top. We agreed to donate our fifty dollar first prize to the cause and laughed about it for the next few months. Noah would tease me relentlessly about the fact that I had such a dowdy old nightgown already in my closet.

"That was ridiculous," I finally said. "I know you didn't vote for us, by the way."

"Heck no I didn't!" Murphy tugged again, a little harder this time. "Angie was in a naughty elf costume. How could I not vote for that?"

I rolled my eyes. "She never did go out with you, did she?"

"Once, but that was enough." I could feel Murphy's chest move with a silent snicker. "She wasn't girlfriend material."

"Oh so you've got guidelines? This should be good." I turned my head a bit so I could see his face.

"I guess she's gotta be smart, but not smarter than me. And she's gotta be able to keep up with me in a beer chugging contest. No arrest record."

"You don't want a criminal?" I grinned. "Kinda hypocritical don't you think?"

"She's got to be a good girl, that way I know someone will be at home to answer the phone when I call for bail money."

"Ooh, good point." It actually made perfect sense. "What else?"

"I don't know, I figure if she can keep my attention for more than one night, I'll know she's worth the trouble."

I leaned forward and laughed again. "Okay..."

Murphy pulled me back against his body. "What about you? What's it going to take for you to decide to move on and find a good man to support your criminal habits for the rest of your life?"

"Hell freezing over." I didn't even have to think about that. I'd seen how much Atom and Carrie's lives changed when she got pregnant. They had too many responsibilities for my taste. Besides, I'd already had my heart broken once. I couldn't picture a single scenario that would make me risk that again.

"You used to talk about college and marriage and kids and the whole American dream." Murphy had a knack for pointing out the past.

Sometimes I felt like he needed to stroll down memory lane. After all, Noah was my boyfriend, but he'd been Murphy's best friend ever since the eighth grade. Tonight, though, was not the night. I'd been a good girl for my parents and it was time to cut loose and have fun. I'd wallowed enough.

"Yeah, well 'used to' are the key words. I can't even imagine life past tomorrow. So let's not drag this party down by getting all philosophical here. How about a toast to the freedom of the greatest country on earth?" I cheerfully held up my plastic cup and Murphy slapped his against it, splashing cold beer over our hands.

"To America!" He cheered loud enough that his words were being repeated all across the skate park.


	4. Chapter 4

I decided I still needed to be good girl for a while, and maybe earn a little bit of my father's trust back. Although I still managed to sneak out of my house every night to hang out with my friends and party, for the next two weeks of my punishment, I made it to work at my father's lab on time and stayed until five o'clock. I bought my own lunch every day and stopped intentionally harassing Bellamy. Instead of blasting my music into the air, I'd brought some nice headphones so I could listen to it as loud as I want without disturbing my father's favorite Nerd Boy.

Due to the steady rhythms pounding into my ears, I often caught myself dancing around the lab. Bellamy ignored me completely, except for the moments that I started to sing along and got a little loud. Even then I didn't get any words. I just got an irritated or confused glance. I didn't mind though. I wasn't there to impress anyone. By the time Friday came along, I was just happy to be three quarters of the way done with my jail sentence. I dove into the usual files on my desk that morning without pause and even worked through lunch. I was hungry, but there was an extra file, a new patient, on my desk so it would take me a little longer than usual.

After lunch I was looking through a series of black and white pictures that I usually ignored, I found myself fascinated by the lines and shapes and shadows of a human brain.

"What's with the little white spaces in the middle?" I asked Bellamy, knowing he wouldn't reply to me.

He turned around and looked at the MRI scan I was holding up. "Those are lesions." He was very matter-of-fact about it and offered no further explanation.

Somewhat surprised that he'd answered me, it took me a moment to respond. "I feel sorry for these people."

"They don't need pity, they need a cure." I could hear something off in his tone and watched his body stiffen like I'd physically touched him or something.

I didn't say anything else for the rest of the day. I'd just finished the last of my work when I noticed it was almost seven o'clock. I groaned, knowing my mother would be home before me and I'd get in trouble for being late when I was still grounded. Grabbing my bag and phone, I barely said goodbye before rushing out of the hospital to walk home.

As I feared, she was waiting in the living room when I ran into the house.

"I'm sorry I'm late." I was out of breath from running almost a mile home. "I had some stuff to finish and lost track of time."

She glared at me from her spot on the couch. "You expect me to believe you were actually at work? On a Friday night?"

I was indignant, but not surprised. I probably wouldn't believe it if I was her either. "Do you honestly think I was out partying and came home before dark? That's kind of a waste of a good Friday evening, isn't it?"

Abby's face turned a bright shade of red, but she didn't have time to scold me for being a smart aleck before my father walked in.

"Hey there, I tried to catch you in the parking lot to give you a ride but you ran too fast." He smiled broadly at me and went over to the couch to give my mother a brief greeting kiss. "You should be jealous that I got her these past few weeks instead of you, Abby. She's been a great help."

I wasn't sure what to say. My mother looked doubtful.

"Really Jake? And here I thought we'd have to fight her on this."

He shook his head. "Nope. She's doing a good job. I might be tempted to offer her a full time job at the end of next week." He winked at me, causing my frozen heart to melt. Just a little bit. "I'm on call, so I'm going to shower now just in case I get a page."

It was my mother's turn to roll her eyes. "Sure, because there's always a rash of psychiatric emergencies in our town."

"You never know. It is a full moon after all." His voice trailed off behind him as he went down the hall toward his bedroom.

Before I could go hide in my bedroom, my mother said that I would be spending the rest of the weekend at home. She had both days off work and warned me that I would be helping her with chores around the house. By noon on Saturday, I'd already swept the pool and mowed the lawn. By dinner time I'd dusted the entire downstairs and done four loads of laundry. By bedtime, I'd reminded her at least a dozen times that we had a housekeeper for this exact reason.

Sunday morning started with more of the same. After getting filthy from head to toe while weeding the garden, I couldn't help but voice my displeasure.

"Gardens are a waste of time," I informed her. "You can just go to the grocery store and buy all of this stuff. And there's no dirt involved."

She replied with a firm glare. "Go get the hose from the garage and hook up the sprinklers."

I grumbled my way across the yard, wondering how mad she would be if I _accidentally_ sprayed her right in the face when I came back. Her weekend bonding time was really nothing more than slave labor for me. I couldn't believe that I was actually looking forward to going to work Monday morning just so I could get out of the house.

As luck would have it, the hose was a tangled mess that took a while to straighten out. I couldn't find the sprinkler head anywhere and began searching the shelves filled with holiday decorations, car oil, gardening equipment and other garage stuff. Apparently, my six foot tall father had put it away last, since it was up on a high shelf. I was barely five and half feet tall so I had to climb to get to it. By the time I'd grabbed it and fallen on my butt, I was cursing up a storm when I heard someone clear their throat.

From my prone position, sprawled out on the cold concrete floor, I looked up and saw Bellamy standing just outside of the open garage bay door.

"You okay?" He looked quizzical and almost amused, but definitely not concerned. Then again, I'd only fallen a whole three feet.

"Yeah," I grumbled, pulling myself up and wiping the sweat off of my face. In the process, I left a huge dirty streak across it. Normally I would care, but there was no reason to try to impress a guy that was nerdier than I'd ever seen him, if that was possible.

I couldn't tell if he'd used hair gel or if it was just that dirty, but his usual wild curls were plastered to his head. He wore his geek glasses a tad crooked and stood with his hands shoved into the pockets of corduroy pants. A dark cardigan covered a bizarrely patterned button down shirt and he wore a wrist watch on the outside of the sleeve. In short, he looked hot.

Not cute hot, either.

I know I was sweating in nothing more than a bikini top and shorts.

"Is Dr. Griffin available?" Bellamy asked, turning his gaze to everything but me.

I shook my head. "Sunday is his golfing day. Why?"

Bellamy shrugged. "I had an idea and just wanted to mention it to him."

Work stuff. I should've guessed. "And you've never heard of a cell phone?"

He rocked back on his heels, biting his lower lip. "Yeah… Um…" he stammered.

"Do you need me to call him for you?" I wasn't offering to be helpful. The inside air conditioning was a lot more appealing than more yard work with my mother.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when, think of the devil, she came around the garage and took in the situation.

"I see why it's taken you so long, Clarke." She cast me a very disapproving look. "I thought I told you that you were grounded. That means no friends can come over here either."

Bellamy stammered. "I was just stopping by to speak with Dr. Griffin, ma'am."

"Oh?" She raised an eyebrow and wiped her hands on her jeans. "Psychiatric emergency?"

If he knew she was being condescending, he didn't show it. Instead, he smiled, reveling perfectly straight white teeth. "No, not at all. I've just had a thought about the new protocol and wanted to compare his personal observation notes."

Now my mother actually looked interested. I cut in. "Yeah, and he wanted to know if I could help him go through it all. I know I'm grounded though so, sorry Bellamy. I don't think I'll be able to go into the office today."

I could see his whole body jerk, confusion threatening to pop up in his expression again, but he blanked it out immediately.

It seemed as though boy genius might be smart after all.

"That's alright. I'm sure I can do it on my own, it will just take longer." Again he shrugged only this time it was more nonchalant than awkward. "Unless you'd agree to let her work for a while?" He raised an eyebrow and bit his lower lip. I could tell by the way he'd begun to fidget that he was nervous.

"Ugh, it's the weekend," I protested quickly. "I don't think my prison sentence applies to the weekends. I'd rather clean the bathrooms again."

My mother smiled and shot me an odd look. I couldn't tell if she was on to me or if she was just trying to make me mad. Thankfully, she stoically replied that maybe it would do me some good to have to give up a weekend for work.

I groaned, maybe a little too much and 'reluctantly' agreed. "Fine, but I need a shower first. I'll meet you at the hospital in an hour?"

Bellamy grimaced. "Actually, the files I need to go through are probably here."

That wasn't what I'd wanted to hear.

My mother shooed me away. "Go wash your hands and you can help him here. I'll show to Jake's office."

"Thank you ma'am," Bellamy replied, following her lead into the house. When he crossed the threshold, he shot me an apologetic look.

I stuck my tongue out at him and ran up the stairs to wash the layers of grime off of my face. Looking in the bathroom mirror, I could see why he hadn't given me an extra look. With all of the dirt and sweat I was wearing over my perfect makeup job, I doubted anyone would find my face attractive. Not that it would mean anything if a loser like Bellamy was attracted to me, but I'd never been lacking the attentions of the opposite sex before I met him and it kind of bugged me. Figuring I had no reason to impress anyone, I took a two-minute shower and threw on some yoga pants and a light tank top before heading down to my father's home office.

Inside, my mother was still there talking to Bellamy.

"So you said that you had an idea?" she asked him, leaning against the desk.

Bellamy shook his head quickly. "No, I think Dr. Griffin had an idea, and maybe over looked it." His fingers typed quickly on my father's computer. "I just have to find it."

"Well make sure to let me know if you do." She noticed me standing in the doorway and pushed herself up to standing. "If I find out you aren't being helpful, you'll be back in the garden."

I gave her a mock salute and rolled my eyes. Closing the door behind her, I went over and sat down in the visitor's chair. "So what exactly are you looking for?"

"Anything with the keyword _C0922S_ in it." He didn't even look away.

I glanced over at the filing cabinet. "Would he have any paper files?" I stood up and went over to it.

Just as I put my hand on the handle, Bellamy spoke up. "It's locked."

I grinned and grabbed a letter opener off of the desk. "Move over," I said bumping my hip against his arm.

He jerked his body away from me at the moment of contact and looked at me quizzically, but did as I'd asked and wheeled the chair out of my way. "You're going to break into Dr. Griffin's desk?"

I laughed, watching the shocked expression turn to fear. What a do-gooder, I thought to myself. "How else do you want me to get the keys for the filing cabinets?" With a flick of the opener, I had the drawer open in mere seconds. It was possibly a new record. I was proud of myself.

"I take it you've done this before?"

I grinned at him, pulling out the ring that held several metal keys. "I'm not just a pretty face. I've got skills."

"I am so going to get fired for this." Bellamy groaned while I opened the filing cabinet.

"Oh for goodness sake," I sighed. Pulling out my cell phone, I dialed my father's phone number. I was ready to hang it up when he answered.

"Hey Dad, Bellamy's here and he needs access to your filing cabinet. Is it okay to get the keys out of your desk?

"My desk is locked, Clarke," he replied.

"It is?" I did my best imitation of innocence and made an audible sound of me jiggling and opening the drawer. "No it's not, Daddy. It's open. Do you mind?"

"What exactly is it that he's looking for?"

"Beats me. I don't know nothing about the stuff you guys do. I'm just the paperwork girl, remember?"

I could hear my father's sigh of resignation. "Ask him what he's looking for and maybe I can tell you where to find it."

I turned to Bellamy and grinned broadly. "He wants to know what you're looking for."

"C0922S."

I repeated the weird number to my father and was surprised to hear a sudden intake of breath on the other end of the phone. "Is he on my computer right now?"

"Yes?"

"Tell him to stop right now and let me talk to him."

It was my turn to be confused as I repeated the message and handed him the phone. I couldn't hear what my father was saying, but I saw all of the color drain from Bellamy's face and beats of sweat form on his forehead. He didn't even bother to hang up the phone before dropping it on the desk and opening a desk drawer. He was frantically rifling through it looking for something.

"What are you doing? What's wrong?" I picked the phone up but saw that my father had already hung up.

"Zip drive. Thumb drive. Blank cd." He slammed the drawer and opened the next.

"For what?" Now he wasn't even bothering to close the drawers all of the way before tearing into another. Pens and papers were falling out all over the floor around him, but he didn't seem to care. Finally, he found the little chip he was looking for and plugged it into the computer. Pressing a series of commands into the keyboard, he tapped his fingers impatiently against the desktop while the program loaded. "Go get a big bottle of soda or coffee or something really wet and sticky," he said.

"Why?" He was starting to freak me out and I didn't like not knowing what was going on.

"Just go. Hurry."

"No." I stood firm on my ground and crossed my arms over my chest. "Tell me why first."

The computer made a loud beeping sound. Bellamy took the memory card out only to start entering another series of codes and commands.

"Are you always this stubborn? I'm just following your father's orders," he snapped.

Reluctantly, I went to the kitchen and pulled out a pitcher of sweet tea. Grabbing two glasses, I headed back. I thought a glass of tea actually sounded good right now, but the last thing Bellamy seemed like he needed was caffeine.

When I got back to the office, Bellamy was going through the filing cabinet. He pulled out random folders while I poured us each a glass of tea. Shoving the files into his satchel, returned to the desk and put everything back into their respective drawers. After making everything look neat and tidy, he took his glass and drank half of it. Setting it on the desk near the computer, he poured more into it. When it reached the lip of the glass, he didn't stop. Instead, he let the sticky liquid flow all over the desk, spilling all over everything, including his lap.

"What are you doing?" I exclaimed.

"Just forget that you ever heard those numbers." He stopped pouring and looked up at me with the most panicked look on his face. "Please."

I nodded, still lost to the gravity of the situation. "Why?"

"Because it can get a lot of people hurt." He stood up and went to the door. My mother was just in the living room and he asked her for some towels.

"I'm really sorry," he stammered. "It spilled all over his desk."

"What?" Abby hopped up quickly and ran to the kitchen. They came back in together and began soaking up the mess. "How did this happen?" She paused only long enough to glare at me.

I stood my ground firmly and jutted out my chin. "I accidentally dropped the pitcher when I was filling his glass," I lied. I was used to being blamed for everything, so why not take it this time, too?

Bellamy looked up at me through hair that had fallen into his face, with that scared puppy dog look in his eyes again.

"I can't believe how irresponsible you are sometimes Clarke; although I know I should expect nothing less." She picked up some of the stray papers and shook the brown wetness from them. "Thank God he backs up everything."

Bellamy nodded, not hiding his fear and panic at all. "I'm really sorry," he repeated.

"I'm sure it's not your fault," my mother replied. "Is the computer okay?"

Bellamy sat back down and tried to power up the system. A loud pop came out of it and the screen remained black.

"Great," my mother growled. "Did you at least find what you were looking for?"

Bellamy shook his head. "He must've decided it wasn't worth looking into anymore and deleted it." He stood up quickly and grabbed his satchel. "I'm sorry, I really am. Please tell Dr. Griffin that I will be more than happy to put in extra hours to rebuild his database."

"I'm sure that won't be necessary, Bellamy. Jake backs it up every time he uses it so I doubt there will be any problems. And if there are, I do believe it was Clarke who ruined it, so it will be Clarke who fixes it."

If it were possible, I imagined steam was pouring from my ears like an old cartoon character. "Should I come to the lab and help you?"

Please please please say yes I silently begged.

"Oh no, you aren't going anywhere," my mother scolded harshly. "I think you've done enough for one day. For one lifetime even."

Bellamy still looked scared when he headed for the door. Stopping when he reached me, he took my hand in his, shaking it rather business like. It was the first time he'd willingly made any kind of physical contact with me. His eyes widened in some unspoken word that I didn't understand. "Thanks," he muttered.

When he pulled away, I felt the cold plastic chip in my hand. I just nodded and was nervous. I had no idea what was going on, but it had to be pretty major for him to be reacting like this. I palmed it so that my mother wouldn't notice. After he left, I tried to go upstairs to my room, but my mother had better plans for me.

"You go get the cleaning supplies and get this mess taken care of properly," she barked. Muttering a string of nasty comments, she left me to it.

Thankfully, she never noticed when I slipped the chip into my pocket. I was steaming the tea out of the carpet when she reappeared, this time followed by two men who were both dressed in suits.

"He should be home soon," she was saying to them. "We just had a rather messy incident here, so please excuse the mess."

They nodded and looked around the room, carefully studying each detail. "And no one else is here right now?"

My mother shook her head. I stopped what I was doing and watched them curiously. "What's going on?"

"My husband's lab assistant was here, but he's gone now."

"I see," said man number one. "And what was he doing here?"

My mother shrugged. "He was looking for some notes, but then Clarke spilled tea all over him and he had to leave."

The second man came over to me. "Clarke Elizabeth Griffin…"

"Wow, we're on a middle name basis already? And here I thought we just met." I didn't bother trying to hide the acid in my tone.

He glanced around, his eyes pausing on the computer and the filing cabinets before moving on. "Middle name, grade point average, hobbies. I know a lot about you."

"Oh really?" I laughed in his face. "Enlighten me, please?"

"Born September 22. Barely graduated from high school two months ago with a grade point average of 2.1. You spent most of your high school career on the truancy watch list and have an arrest record as long as any typical juvenile delinquent for vandalism, curfew violations, drug possession and shoplifting. Your hobbies are limited to listening to loud, obnoxious music, cussing, and hanging out at the skate park with your fellow delinquents. You haven't applied to any college yet, but that's okay, because there is really no way to earn a degree in 'party girl'. Have I missed anything?"

His partner snickered in the corner. I fumed. "Nope," I smarted back. "Looks like you've got me all figured out."

I pushed past him and tried to go to my room. Man number one stopped me before I could leave. "What was Bellamy Blake looking for?"

I shrugged. If they were so smart, they should already know right? I couldn't help but think of the scared look on Bellamy's face. My mind raced. "Something about F04 something, I don't know." I'd typed the number F0407S so many times in the past week it popped right up in my memory. I just hoped it wasn't related to the files that were hidden on the disk I'd shoved into my pocket.

Man number two pulled out his phone and dialed a number. "F zero four," he said to the stranger on the other end. After a pause, he hung up without another word.

The first guy was trying to get the computer to turn on. My heart skipped a beat when the screen came to life. "What's that one?"

"Nervous breakdown stuff," his partner replied.

I wanted to correct him. It was actually referred to as a major depressive episode, not a breakdown.

"Here it is," said the man behind the computer. "There's a retrace program running in the background. No one was accessing it, it's just background noise."

Joined by the other man and my mother, he began scrolling through the files on my father's computer. She looked worried, the men looked bored.

"You can go to your room now," my mother ordered. There was a hint of concern in her voice, but I was happy to have been released.

Once in my room, I pulled out my phone and called my father again. When he answered, it sounded like he was driving.

"Are you okay?" were the first words out of his mouth.

"Yeah," I said. I lied. I wasn't okay. I was confused and angry and just a little bit afraid. "Care to tell me what is going on with the G-men in your office?"

"There are government men there?" His pitch went up an octave but returned to calm, cool, and collected with his next words. "Listen to me very carefully, Clarke. Just stay put until they leave and then get to Bellamy. He will know what to do from there. And don't say a word to anyone about this."

"Dad, are you in trouble?" If ever there was a moment when I was truly afraid, this was it. I may not like the guy, but he's my dad after all.

"No, no I'm fine. Just do what I said and make sure your mother stays in the dark, okay?"

I hung up and felt my heart break a little. Dread filled my chest while I waited for the black sedan to pull out of my driveway. When it finally did, I turned some loud music and waited for the inevitable mother knocking on my door.

When she did, I grinned. She fell for this every stinking time. "Yeah?" I said through barely a crack in the door.

"Turn it off. I'll call you down when dinner is ready."

I rolled my eyes and shut the door as hard as I could. "I'm not hungry," I yelled.

Going over to the sound system, I turned it down, but just one level. It was still loud, but at least I'd done what she'd told me to. I put on a pair of jeans and grabbed my old hiking boots. Murphy had hollowed out the heel for me once as a place to stash some marijuana a while back. Flipping the tread to the side, I put the memory card in there and put the boots on.

After grabbing my knapsack, I climbed out of my window, once again glad that I had stupid parents who didn't think to position their troublesome child's bedroom somewhere other than the corner of the house overlooking a porch roof that was easy enough to climb on and off of. With little effort, I made it to the ground and headed toward the hospital. I had no idea where Bellamy lived, but dad told me to go to him, so I headed toward the only place I could think of.

The hospital.


	5. Chapter 5

Bellamy was there, just as I'd expected. When I walked into the room, he was sitting in his desk chair, bent over with his head between his knees. I could hear his loud breathing. It looked like he was in the middle of a full-fledged panic attack.

"Calm down there Nerd-Boy," I laughed. I quickly scanned the area and saw an old takeout bag in the trashcan. Emptying the wrappers and napkins, I handed it to him. He instantly put it over his face and started breathing in deeply. After a few minutes, his hyperventilation stopped and he pulled the bag down.

"That smells disgusting." He tossed it into the trash. "Never inhale three day old french fry grease."

"I'll try to remember that," I laughed again. "So what's going on?"

He shook his head vehemently. "Not here," he whispered. He tilted his head to the corner where a security camera was installed. No wonder my father knew I'd snuck out of work early every day. "I'm about done here. I found the file I was looking for." He gave a half grin and held up a manila folder stuffed with papers. I didn't know if he meant to show it to me or make a show for the camera, so I just went along with it.

I quickly wrote the numbers 0407 on a paper on the desk. "Cool. What's it about anyway?"

He glanced at it quickly and by the gleam in his eye, I could tell he understood what I was trying to say. "It's Dr. Griffin's personal notes on the Major Depressive Episodes study we are currently conducting."

"That sounds thrilling. But not. I'm going to head home then." I handed the paper to him and made up an excuse for any potential watchers for why I wrote down numbers. "Here's my phone number if you get done early and want to do something."

"Thanks," he said uneasily, stuffing the paper into his shirt pocket.

I smiled and headed for the door, tucking my long bangs behind my ears. "See you later Nerd-Boy."

He gave me a halfhearted wave and I left. Not knowing what the heck I should do next, I left the hospital and went across the street to a small café. From the table near the front window, I could see the hospital entrance and waited for him to walk out. After nearly a half hour and two cups of coffee, I finally saw his disheveled form lumber out into the sunlight.

Hopping up from my chair quickly, I tossed a small tip on the table and followed him from a distance. He was on foot, walking toward the opposite side of town from where I lived. The Griffin house was in the wealthier subdivision, but he was headed toward the old factories. I stayed far enough away that he didn't see me, hoping that no one else would notice I was following him either. Finally, he stopped at an old warehouse across the street from the one I'd been arrested at a few weeks before. I hurried to catch up to him and ducked inside just as he was going into another unmarked door.

"Wait up!" I called breathlessly.

He jumped, startled by my sudden appearance and stood there with a stunned look on his face. Only one foot was inside the doorway. I could tell he was trying to decide if he should invite me to follow him or stand there and talk outside of his place.

"Did you bring the card?" He asked.

"Well that's a polite how're you doing."

"I'm sorry," he blushed. "Did you bring the card though?"

"Yep," I grinned, pushing past him into his apartment.

I'd expected to see a typical college aged bachelor pad, filled with dirty laundry and junk lying everywhere. Instead, I saw a one room loft that was neater than my house right after the maid left. A small kitchenette bordered one side with a closet next to it. There was a couch, a desk, a bed, and a dresser, but no other furniture. There was an obvious lack of anything electronic, other than his computer. No television, no game system, no sound system, nothing. His bed was neatly made and there were no dirty dishes on the counter. His clothes were neatly hung up on a metal bar over his dresser, arranged in a rainbow of coordinated colors.

So this is how geeks lived.

Who knew?

"Does your mom live here?" I joked.

"What? No." He fumbled around, locking the door after following me inside.

I plopped down sideways onto the couch and kicked my feet up onto the back of it. "This is comfy," I grinned. "Maybe I should take a nap after that two mile hike you just made me take."

"It was only 1.32 miles. You said you brought the card?"

I shook my head. "I did. But I want to know what this is all about before I just hand it over to you."

His look turned incredulous as he dropped his satchel on the desk. "The less you know, the safer you are."

"Wrong Nerd-Boy," I said sitting straight up. "Whatever this is all about is dangerous. I get that. But I'm not afraid of the government. I don't know why you should be."

"You don't see it, do you?" He leaned against the desk and crossed his arms over his chest. "Think about the past decade, all of the things they've done. Trust me, there are plenty of reasons to be afraid of the government."

"What? Cutting taxes in half, bringing all the soldiers home to be with their families, and taking guns out of the hands of criminals means I should be afraid? You sound like some conspiracy nut."

"What if the conspiracies are true though? That doesn't worry you, not at all?"

"Nothing worries me, Nerd-Boy."

He nodded his head and pursed his lips. "That's right. I hope for nothing, I fear nothing, I am free. I forgot you think you are invincible."

I self-consciously looked down at my forearm where the passage he'd just quoted was tattooed. "I never said that."

"Then what does that mean to you?"

"It means no one can order me around."

He shook his head slowly. "No, it means if you don't have anything to hope for, you will never be let down. It means if you have nothing to fear, you have no reason to think about consequences. It means that even though you feel trapped, the thing you want so desperately is to be free."

I was stunned and a little wounded. "Well that was quite a mouthful coming from a guy who didn't have two words to say to me in the past three weeks." My voice was weak, even though I didn't want it to be. It made me mad that he thought he could psychoanalyze me like that. "C0922G. That's my initials and birthdate. What is it?"

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Finally giving in, he came over and sat on the other end of the couch, as far away from me as he could get without falling on the floor.

"C0922G is a study your father started working on the day you were born. Have you ever heard of Locked-In Syndrome?"

I shook my head.

"It's a state someone is in, like a coma, but they are completely awake and aware of their surroundings. For some reason, they are unable to communicate in any way, not physically or verbally. It's like they are literally trapped inside their own mind. Your father was researching causes and treatments and the drug caused an otherwise healthy mind to shut down, mimicking a natural L.I.S. He stumbled onto something and immediately shut down the entire protocol." His entire body animated while he talked. He obviously loved the thought of sharing knowledge.

"Why?"

"Because the syndrome itself is so rare, it should have been near impossible to have enough test subjects in his entire lifetime, yet he always managed to have a page worth of names on the waiting list."

"Where did they come from?"

"Dr. Griffin hypothesized that the government got ahold of his initial L.I.S. studies and manufactured C0922G. They sent the test subjects to him so that Dr. Griffin could develop ways to access their mind while they were under the influence. He thought the government wasn't looking for a cure. Instead, they wanted to perfect the mind control drug they'd been injecting into the patients who suffered from the syndrome. In a paper you father wrote but never published, he said he found traces of LR911 in almost all of his patients."

"What's that?"

"It's a mind control drug that was being tested by various different governments going all of the way back to Dr. Eduard Wirths in Auschwitz during World War Two."

"You said almost all of them were on the drug. What about the others?"

"There was only one other. Ten years ago." His tone dropped to barely above a whisper. "My mother."

I sucked in my breath. "What happened to her?"

"It's a long story, but to sum it up, she had a major depressive episode after her sister died and tried to commit suicide. She didn't succeed, but for the next four years, she never really woke up either."

"And my father experimented on her?"

Bellamy's head snapped up quickly. "Dr. Griffin isn't a monster. He used therapy and chemical protocols on his patients to try and wake them up. He did everything he could, and it worked. It just didn't work out in the end like we'd all hoped."

"She died?" How sad, I thought. I knew I should just shut up and let it drop, but I just couldn't help myself.

He nodded. "Not right away." He took a deep breath and leaned back into the couch, resting his leg on his opposite knee. "She recovered. Dr. Griffin gave her a clean bill of health and discharged her from inpatient care on the condition that she continue regular outpatient services."

I was silent. I didn't know what to say. My first instinct was a sarcastic comment, but I wasn't so horrible of a person that I couldn't keep it to myself. I'd never understood how someone's life could be that bad. Bad enough to want to die and leave behind everyone you love to suffer without you.

"Is that what made you interested in working with my dad?"

"No, not really. Kind of, maybe. Can I have the card now?"

I kicked my boot off and opened the heel. Taking out the memory card, I handed it to him. "So what's on here?"

"It's the formula for the drug he developed that accessed victims of the drug induced syndrome."

"Why wouldn't he turn it all over? That doesn't sound like my dad to hide stuff like that."

"He was afraid that he'd created a perfect mind control drug. And honestly, I think he did."

"And you wiped it from his hard drive?"

Bellamy nodded. "He told me to, and to run the ghost program that was already installed that would replace what I'd removed so that no one would realize something was missing. C0922G is dangerous."

"Yes, yes I am." I smiled wickedly and noticed him biting the inside of his cheek. My phone vibrated madly in my pocket. With a nervous groan, I looked at the caller id. It wasn't either of my parents busting me for sneaking out. It was a relief to see Murphy's name flashing wildly.

"Hey, you blew us off last night," he accused before I could even say hello. "And we had big news, too. So you'd better show up tonight or else."

"I was exhausted! My mother had me working like a slave all day and I swear I passed out like an old woman! What's going on tonight?"

"We're having a blowout going away party for Atom tonight. He got that job at the nuke plant and leaves in the morning."

"What time?" I glanced over at Bellamy who was picking at his fingernails, trying to ignore my conversation. "Can I bring Bellamy?"

He shot his head up and shook it quickly.

"You seriously want to drag the geek to one of our parties? Is he a new charity project or something?"

Bellamy was having just as bad a day as I was. It was the least I could do to offer him a way to let loose and have a little fun. Something I seriously doubted he'd ever done a day in his life before.

"Bring anyone you want, I don't care. Just be there by eight or I'll knock on your mother's door and tell her what you did on Christmas Eve."

I laughed hysterically and hung up. "It'll be fun," I teased Bellamy once I'd found control of myself again.

"No way. I don't do stuff like that."

"Come on, you know you would have a good time. Don't you like to have fun?"

He sat up a little straighter, if that was possible. "I have fun all the time," he said indignantly.

"Oh yeah?" I challenged. "When's the last time you laughed?

"This morning."

"What were you doing that was so much fun?"

I watched the blush creep up his neck and spread across his face. "I was playing cards with my grandmother, which is always fun for me." The jiggling doorknob stopped our conversation dead.

"Government people?" I whispered. Bellamy's blush turned to whiteness as he jumped up and rushed into the closet next to the kitchenette. When he opened the door, I saw that it was a bathroom, not a closet, but just as small. He took the toilet paper roll off of the holder and tucked the memory card inside before replacing it. He'd just finished and come out when the sound of keys turning in the lock was heard.

We were both holding our breath when the door opened. I was stiff as a board and about to throw up when I saw a uniformed state police man come in. He just stood there looking at me, his face grimacing a bit.

"You must be Clarke." The officer finally said. "Bell mentioned the pink hair."

It was my turn to give Bellamy a confused look. I saw his facial features relax. "This is my brother, Finn. What's are you doing here?"

"Can't a guy visit his little brother when he wants?" Finn smiled broadly, revealing perfect teeth identical to his brother's.

"You never have before. Is something wrong with Gramma Rose?"

"No, I told you, everyone is fine." He smiled directly at me. "It's nice to meet you Clarke. Are you planning on staying on at the lab once your community service is over?"

"I don't know," I grinned. "Are you going to visit the lab if I do?"

"I just might be able to find a few reasons to stop in on occasion."

I laughed along with him, but Bellamy seemed oddly uncomfortable. "You do know she's eighteen, right? You're a decade older than her."

Finn swallowed outright laughter and turned his full attention to Bellamy. "I actually need to talk to you. Alone."

"Yeah, um…" Bellamy scanned the room, finding nothing but open space with me sitting right in the middle of it all.

I hopped up. "I gotta pee. Two cups of coffee can really go through a girl." I figured maybe if I was on the other side of the bathroom door, they'd have the privacy Finn was looking for. Besides, I thought grabbing my knapsack, I needed to put on some makeup and fix my hair before I went to the park.

Once I was inside, I stopped to listen. I could hear murmurs, but not actual words. I guessed they were whispering so I pressed my ear against the door.

"Commander Kane has us all on high alert. I don't know what's going to happen, but remember what tomorrow is and keep your eyes and ears open."

Tomorrow was the ten year anniversary of a horrible massacre at the American Amusement Park in Florida. During the busiest day of the summer, masked gunmen appeared from out of nowhere and started gunning people down. They didn't stop until not one person remained standing inside the park. By the time it was all over, 3301 men, women, and children were dead or wounded, not including one hundred fifty-three terrorists.

My mind wandered and I didn't even notice that the talking had stopped until I heard a soft knock on the door.

I opened it and found a very tense Bellamy watching his super suave brother flirt with me.

"We're all done talking Pinky. You can come back out to play." Finn grinned, flashing his perfect white teeth.

"Why thank you officer." I sauntered out of the bathroom and looked at the clock on my phone. "Well I'd love to stay and get to know you better, but I've got a party with my name written all over it and I don't want to be late. I don't suppose I can borrow that jacket over there can I?"

I pointed to a black flannel suit jacket hanging up on a hook by the door. Without waiting for permission, I went over to it and pulled it off the hook. The sleeves were a bit long, but after I rolled them up, it would be perfect. Taking it off for a minute, I pulled my tank off to reveal a white sports bra, and then put the jacket back on. There was no mirror in the room, but I figured I looked about as hot as I could get without immediate access to my own closet.

"You coming, Bellamy?" When I turned around to ask him, that ever present look of confusion was back in full force.

He shook his head again quickly. "I uh..."

"Man," Finn scolded. "This beautiful lady wants to take you to a party with her? I can't imagine anything more important." He shot his younger brother a meaningful look and ruffled his hair, releasing the waves from their gelled prison. "Of course he's coming, aren't you Belly boy?"

Bellamy glared at Finn and reluctantly followed me out of the apartment. His hands were shoved deep in his pockets and his shoulders were slumped the entire walk across town to the skate park. I tried to have a conversation with him, makes jokes, anything, but he just scowled in displeasure. Finally I gave up. We didn't even have to enter the park before we heard the loud music pumping through the air. My adrenaline shot up to a massive level, increasing my mood along with it.

"Clarke!" Atom cheered when we walked into the clearing. "I was worried you wouldn't make it ever since you joined the working world."

He had a red plastic cup in each of his hands and he held one out to each of us. I took mine and smiled, but Bellamy held his hand up in denial.

Atom gulped the entire contents in three drinks and tossed the cup on the ground. "Everyone's here. It's gonna get nuts!"

"I bet! Where's Murphy?" I scanned the crowd, looking for the familiar face.

"The last time I saw him was about five beers ago. You better sing for me tonight!"

"Maybe?" I flirted. "You've got a set-up here?"

Every now and then, they would haul in a portable sound system so we could have a semblance of live music. It wasn't ever anything really good, but by the time anyone got enough nerve to get on a makeshift stage, we were too intoxicated to care about sound quality or talent. It was beginning to feel like Freedom Day all over again.

Atom nodded and looked over to Bellamy. "I see you brought a friend?" He held his hand toward him. "I'm Atom."

Bellamy nervously shook his hand. Other than his face, there was hardly a square inch on Atom's body that wasn't covered in tattoos, so he was a little intimidating to look at. "Bellamy Blake."

Atom nodded. "I know you. I graduated two years ahead of you, but I remember you being the smartest kid in the whole school back then." I could see some sort of recognition flicker behind Atom's eyes, but he didn't say anything else.

Bellamy shifted on his feet. Atom was four years ahead of me and Murphy, so that meant I went to school with Bellamy, too. I wracked my brain to think of a single interaction we would've shared and came up empty.

"Well, as stimulating as this conversation is, I've got people to see and beer to drink! Save me a dance Clarke."

"You bet." I smiled and hugged him but was careful not to spill the amber liquid in the cup. After he darted off to another corner of the crowd, I urged Bellamy to follow me to meet people. He took a few steps, but stayed at the outer edge of the group and leaned against a wall.

And stayed there.

For almost two hours.

By the time I made my way back to him, I had worked up a sweat dancing, drank a half a dozen beers and smoked a half a pack of cigarettes. Needless to say, I wasn't walking a very straight line when I tied his jacket around my waist and grabbed his hands.

"Dance with me," I slurred.

"Won't your boyfriend get a little angry?" He attempted to pull his hands away, but when he did, I stumbled forward into him. He had to catch me to keep me standing upright. His long fingers almost touched against my back when his hands grasped either side of my hips. I could feel a slight tremble in them and it made me even giddier.

"I have no boyfriend. Not now, never will. I am free, remember? Now dance with me."

"I don't dance." He tried to let go, but I wrapped my arms around his neck and wouldn't let him, forcing him to sway along to the slow cadence of the song playing in the speakers.

"Why are you doing this?" He sounded like he was in pain.

"What?" I laid my head against his chest and let myself dissolve in the music.

"Acting like this?"

I couldn't help but giggle a little bit. "I like to have fun. Is that so bad?"

He stopped moving and pulled away from me. "I've been watching you all night. I've seen you practically chain smoke, but you have yet to inhale even one time. And all of those beers you keep carrying around? Not once have you so much as taken a sip. You just put the glass down when you think no one is looking. There is no possible way you could be drunk right now. I just don't understand why you think you need to pretend to be."

I glared at him and pulled my hand back to slap him in the face but he caught my swing in midair. "How dare you?" I spat angrily. "You're a bigger loser than Noah ever was. Being a square won't serve any good you know? You need to learn to lighten up and enjoy life before it's over." I snapped my finger in his face so close he should've been able to feel the air shift in front of his nose. "Like that."

I turned around to storm off and plowed right into Murphy, who had just witnessed the entire thing. Too furious to even speak to him right now, I moved past him and leaned against the wall a few yards away.

I could see Murphy talking to Bellamy but I couldn't tell who was more upset between the two of them. I caught them both casting glances my way more than once, so it was a safe assumption that they were talking about me. That only made me angrier, so I pushed into the crowd and started dancing again. I tried to have a good time, but my night was ruined. It took me a while to find Atom, but I was finally able to say a tearful goodbye to my good friend and went home.

When I got there, my bedroom door was open and the music was turned off but there was no sign of either one of my parents. Sneaking down the carpeted hallway, I peeked into their bedroom and found two snoring bodies, sleeping peacefully without sharing an inch of space on the bed. It reminded me of when I was little and had a bad dream. There was always room between my parents for me to crawl into bed and seek comfort. Sometimes, I wished I was still small enough.

By the time I'd showered and changed into pajamas, my mind was so clouded with thoughts and memories, all I could do was cry myself to sleep.

I spent the entire night tossing and turning, dreaming about the government men, about Atom and Murphy, about Bellamy's cruel words, and about Noah's body caught in twisted metal as he cried out for my help. I had spent the last two years convincing myself that my heart was cold to the world around me, but tonight, I was reminded it wasn't.

My alarm went off, letting me know it was time to get up and get ready for work. I felt like I hadn't slept more than an hour tops, but hauled myself out of bed anyway. After a quick shower, I got dressed in a pair of cargos and a tank top, my usual uniform. The late summer air was thick with humidity making it hard to breathe so I took my time getting there. Unlike last week, I didn't really care about being punctual, or a good employee, or a productive member of society. Whether my father was proud or not didn't even enter my mind. Instead, I blasted the music in my earphones as loud as it would go and tried to ignore the bright, pristine world around me.

When I walked into the office, Bellamy looked up from his desk and gave me a finger wiggle of a wave. I concentrated on not bothering to as much as look at him. I tossed his jacket at him and went to my desk, sitting down and pulling open a file right away. For the next three and a half hours, I sat in perfect silence. I didn't even bother to take a sip from the hot cup of coffee Bellamy had put on my desk. I wanted quiet, not just around me, but in my head too. No matter what I did, or how hard I tried to silence the demons, they were still there. I was slipping into a pretty dark place, and I knew it.

I took my lunch back to the lab and sat by myself at the desk. Looking around at the pictures on the walls, I could practically form a mental picture of the stories the different scans and diagrams meant. My father had worked my entire life to try to save people from mental illness, and was considered one of the best in his field worldwide, but not one time had I ever approached him in a professional manner to get help or counseling. It didn't help anything that today was a depressing day anyway.

At 1:17pm, the hospital speaker system crackled to life and the Chief of Staff addressed everyone in the building.

"Today we stand united as country members and patriots. In remembrance of the 1710 people that lost their lives and 1581 that suffered wounds ten years ago today, we will have a moment of reflection."

Ever since the tragedy, I couldn't recall a single anniversary that wasn't spent standing in silence, respecting and remembering the victims. The year after it happened, the President ordered today to be a National Day of Remembrance and every school, workplace, and broadcasting channel was required to allow participation. I don't think I'd ever seen anyone sitting down or talking in the 120 seconds that ticked away.

Until today.

Halfway into the moment, Bellamy's cell phone rang an angry tone. He fumbled into his pants pocket and pulled it out to silence it, embarrassed of the interruption. When he looked at the caller id, he answered it immediately.

"What's wrong?" he whispered.

The room was so quiet, I could hear the male voice on the other end.

"It's happening right now. Get to Gramma Rose's. Keep an eye on Octavia and I'll be there as soon as I can."

"What's happening?" Dread filled his features.

"I don't have any details, but I will let you know as soon as I do. Go now, before they won't let you out."

The call ended as abruptly as it had started. Bellamy shoved his phone back into his pocket and grabbed his jacket and satchel. His hand had just wrapped around the door knob when the alarms started going off.

"Code Purple Alert 99. Paging Doctor Allstaff to the ER. Repeat Code Purple Alert 99. Paging Doctor Allstaff to the ER."

"What does that mean?" I couldn't stop the panic from coming out. "What does that mean Bellamy?"

The screaming alarm was deafening.

"I don't know," he admitted, going back to his desk to consult a laminated card in his top drawer. Scanning it quickly, the color drained from his face.

"What is it?"

"It means disaster. We are on total lockdown."

My heart dropped into my stomach. "What does that mean?" I repeated.

Bellamy sat down in his chair and pulled his phone out again. "I don't know," he muttered, dialing a number. He made several attempts before giving up. "I don't have service anymore."

He stalked back over to the door and began pulling on it, desperate to get it open. The lock keypad glowed next to it. He tried so many different combinations I thought he would break it if he didn't quit.

"Bellamy, stop it!" I came up behind him and pulled his hand away.

He jerked it away from me and kept trying. "I have to get to Octavia."

"Well you can't right now. Just calm down and I'm sure they'll let us out in a few minutes." I did my best to sound confident but I was just as scared as I imagined he was. He finally gave up and slumped onto the floor, his back against the closed door. I was still mad at him, but I didn't think it would do either one of us any good to argue, so I went back to my desk and sat down. There wasn't much I could think of to say to him that wasn't hateful, so I kept my mouth shut. I figured if I kept myself productive and busy, time would pass quicker. At least one of us was keeping a cool head.

By the time I'd finished entering another file worth of information, the alarms were still going off, but at least they'd turned the volume down a bit. Bellamy remained at his station, waiting for the door to unlock. It was the first time I'd known him to be completely out of control. At least now he knew how I felt half of the time, I thought angrily. Clicking on the internet icon on my computer, I began searching local news channel websites to see if anyone had any information on what was going on. I let out an audible gasp when I read the news alert headlines that scrolled across the screen.

 _EXPLOSION AT QUAD CITIES NUCLEAR FACILITY_

It was less than an hour and a half drive from here. I'd never paid too much attention to it, but ever since President Wegner had declared his intentions to shut down all nuclear reactors in the country, it had made the news several times. Known to be one of the largest in the country, one side argued that we depended on its power generators too much to close it. The other side fought that the plant produced too much nuclear waste to ever be deemed safe or worth the future risk. More importantly, it was where one of my best and only friends had just started working at this morning.

I was just about to tell Bellamy what I'd just read when a new ticker scrolled across the top of the page.

 _NEWS ALERT. EXPLOSIONS AT NUCLEAR FACILITIES IN ILLINOIS, CALIFORNIA AND VIRGINIA. TERRORIST ATTACK SUSPECTED._

"Oh. My. God." I said out loud. "Bellamy? What does this mean to us?"

He looked up from his miserable state. He'd gone from pouting in frustration, to mercilessly dialing and redialing his phone in the past half hour. "What?"

I couldn't put it into words. It was too horrifying to even think about, let alone say. I just pointed at the screen.

He came over and bent over behind me to read the screen.

"It means our world just changed forever."


	6. Chapter 6

We sat in silence for the next few hours, scanning the internet for any information we could find. Unfortunately, it wasn't much. My father called on the inter-hospital house phone to let me know that my mother was in charge of getting all of the available doctors and nurses to the Quad Cities area to treat the blast victims and he was heading up there with her. He promised that he would come back as soon as he could, but not to worry. He told us that we weren't in the fallout zone, but that didn't make me feel any better. Before he hung up, he asked Bellamy to keep an eye on me.

When the alarms stopped, another code rang through the hallways.

"Code Orange Alert" sang the computerized voice.

"What's that mean?" My voice cracked. I was hungry, tired and scared.

He consulted the card again. "The hospital is still on lockdown but we don't have to stay in the lab anymore."

I stood up and stretched my aching muscles. "I'm going to the cafeteria then. Maybe someone there has some answers."

"I'm going to stay here and see what else I can find out online."

In the cafeteria, I found a throng of people, all in different stages of distress. Men and women were crying, alongside of their children. Small groups were huddled together in consolation hugs. The mood was like a funeral, and I couldn't take that any longer than necessary. Grabbing an arm load of wrapped sandwiches and bottled drinks, I paid for the lot and headed back to the lab without attempting to talk to anyone.

"Anything?" I asked, practically dropping everything on the desk.

His quick reflexes allowed him to catch a rolling bottle of water before it hit the floor. "Nothing new or actually of informative value. I emailed my father but I would be surprised if he would have any clue at all. The probability of him even reading it before a week passes is slim anyway, so I'm not getting my hopes up."

"Do you have any theories?" I'd seen him earlier, the expression on his face that of worry mixed with contemplation.

"I think this is more than a coincidence."

"More government conspiracy stuff?" I couldn't stop the snicker from coming out.

He turned and looked at me like he was shocked I hadn't thought of it myself.

"Things are not always what they seem; the first appearances deceive many. The intelligence of a few perceives what is carefully hidden."

I responded with a blank look.

"Phaedrus said it, and he was right. Think about it Clarke. Finn knew something was going to happen. Something big. And then the plant blows up? It's not just a coincidence."

I shook my head. I could tell he honestly believed in the possibilities, but my mind couldn't wrap around it. President Wegner had proved in the last seven years to be a great leader for our country. He'd ended wars, ended a recession and improved national morale.

"And Stephen King said 'Monsters are real, and ghosts are real too. They live inside us and sometimes, they win.' Don't create monsters when there aren't any."

It was Bellamy's turn to look a little surprised. He wasn't the only one who knew a few obscure quotes.

"Fine," he retorted angrily. "It's all just coincidence." Water splashed out of the bottle he'd just drank from as he slammed it back onto the desk.

Let him be angry, I thought. We all had reason to be mad, or upset, or scared. That didn't mean that we had to buy into every internet rumor we saw and freak out about it.

I ate my sandwich slowly, cruising the internet while I did. Since the cell phones weren't working, I decided to get onto a social networking site that I practically lived on to send Murphy a message.

 _I'm stuck at the hospital. We're on lockdown. Message me back so I know you're okay._

I didn't have the heart to ask about Atom. I was too afraid of what his answer might be.

I tried to focus on more light hearted things. Videos posted online of stupid stunts gone wrong, babies laughing, dumb jokes, and late night talk shows were my go-to when I needed to escape. Today, I watched for hours but couldn't bring myself to laugh at any of them. I just kept wondering how many people were dead. And how many people would die from the radiation poisoning. When the lights started flickering, a new fear set in.

If that wasn't bad enough, a uniformed military soldier walked into the room.

"The lockdown will continue through the night, while the radius of exposure has been determined. Be advised that running water has been turned off and food and bottled drinks are being rationed out in the cafeteria. These are good for one meal a day, plus three drinks and one snack." Since Bellamy's desk was closest to the door, the soldier handed him two business cards and abruptly left.

Bellamy looked down at them and handed one over to me.

It wasn't a business card, but more like a thin plastic credit card. It had my name printed on it along with the photo that was snapped on my first day for my employee id badge. A barcode scan strip ran across the bottom of it.

"Sounds like it might be a little longer than overnight if they are already planning on feeding us tomorrow."

Bellamy got up and put the food I'd already gotten earlier in the refrigerated cabinet that held a variety of vials. Almost simultaneously, a blast of cold air came through the vents causing me to shiver.

"What the heck? Are they trying to freeze us to death?" I asked, rubbing my hands against my bare arms.

Bellamy offered me the flannel jacket I'd worn last night and I graciously accepted. Without a word, he left the room and didn't come back for a few minutes. When he did, he had an armload of linens. Tossing the blankets and two pillows onto the floor, he handed me some clean scrubs.

"Clean clothes for tomorrow," he blushed.

I took them and set them down on the other side of my desk. I was getting antsy. I'd been cooped up in here since nine this morning and according to my almost dead cell phone, it was already past ten at night. After the stress of the day, combined with the lack of sleep I'd gotten last night, I was exhausted. The only thing that kept me going was my incessant need to be cavalier.

Obviously, Bellamy was tired too. He folded the blankets in half and made a pallet on the floor. After checking his email again and finding nothing worth reading, he laid down, placing his cell phone right next to his head.

I stayed at the desk for a while, surfing the internet, playing games and wishing I had heard back from Murphy. By the time I realized I was too tired to move, I was already dozing off sitting straight up. I pulled Bellamy's chair over in front of mine and kicked my feet up on it. Leaning back against mine and pulling the jacket around myself tightly, I was physically comfortable enough to let myself drift off to sleep.

If I thought I'd get any relaxing sleep at all, I was so wrong. Instead of letting my brain take a rest, I relived every apocalypse movie I'd ever seen. I imagined that when we were finally allowed to go outside, all I would see if a brown and gray wasteland. Branches would be stripped from the trunks of every tree and buildings would be crumbling ruins. Children were running in the streets, screaming and crying out for their missing parents. Fires and smoke filled the sky with the hazy red color of hell itself.

I woke myself up by nearly falling out of the chair onto the floor. Bellamy was sleeping peacefully on the floor, exactly where he was when I'd fallen asleep. The only that had changed was the light blanket that was covering me. For the first time in two weeks, I was grateful that there were no windows in this room. I hated the idea that the world outside might actually resemble my dream.

My stomach growled and I needed to use the bathroom, but Bellamy was stretched out in the way, preventing me from opening the door without moving him first. He was so tired it didn't seem to bother him that his glasses were askew on his face. I couldn't imagine having a plastic frame jabbing into my cheek could be very comfortable. I checked my phone to see what time it was, but the battery had died overnight. I groaned inwardly, wishing I carried a spare charger in my bag. Turning my attention to the computer, I tried to log onto the internet to see if there were any updates.

No matter how many times I tried, the connection couldn't be made. I cursed out loud, waking Bellamy up.

"What's wrong?" He moved his glasses back onto his eyes which were squinting against the light and propped himself up on an elbow.

"Internet is down," I complained.

"What? No!" He scrambled to his feet and went to his own computer. Entering commands, he kept repeating the same word over and over.

No, no, no…

He jumped up, went to the door and flipped the light off.

"Hey!"

He turned it right back on and watched the florescent bulbs flicker to life immediately.

"What are you doing?" I leaned back into my seat and watched his erratic behavior unfold right before my eyes.

"It's not right." Running his fingers through his hair, he paced the floor and angrily kicked the pillow across the room. "It's not right. I've got to get out of here."

"Whoa whoa whoa," I said, starting to worry a little more. "We aren't going to be trapped in here forever. We aren't even stuck. You can wander all over the hospital if you want. Go down to the physical therapy room and hit the weights or go visit the babies. Pop into the gift shop and smell some roses if you want. I don't care what you do Nerd-Boy, but you're freaking me out."

He stopped his pacing midstride and turned a glare on me. "Stop calling me that. It's rude. And unless we get out of here, we _will_ be trapped forever. If not here, somewhere." He pulled his sweater off and tossed it onto the ground, returning his hands to his head as he paced again.

"Bellamy, please calm down." I approached him and took his hands away from his head. "You are a thousand times smarter and more mature than me, and if I'm not flipping out, you shouldn't be either. How about we go to the cafeteria and get some breakfast. Maybe someone will have more news there."

He looked me over from head to toe. "You might want to do something about that first." His finger twirled in a circle in front of my face.

"What?" I ran my hands up to my hair and found nothing that felt like it was standing straight on end or anything. Wiping my finger underneath my eye, I pulled it away and found it coated with yesterday's mascara. "Fine, we can stop at the bathroom on the way."

"Actually, I'm going to try a few things. You go ahead but don't eat or drink anything until we can examine it, okay?"

After using the bathroom and scrubbing my face with the horrid anti-bacteria hand wash from the dispenser, I made my way upstairs to the cafeteria. Along the way, I noticed the hallways were dim, and the only people I saw were a skeleton staff of nurses sitting at their center desk. Although they noticed me walk by, none of them bothered to say anything.

When I got to the cafeteria, it was empty. The clock on the wall read 4:30. No wonder no one was around. Normal people were either still sleeping, or just going to bed.

A man around my father's age was busy stocking the vending machines. I found it a little odd that he was taking the cold bottles out and replacing them with new ones.

"Hey, can I get a few of those?" I held up my little credit card thing to show I was willing to pay.

He gave me a weird, blank look and turned to the crates of drinks. Grabbing two of the new bottles, he handed them to me.

"On the house," he said. "Just don't tell anyone."

I smiled and thanked him even though I had hoped for a cold one. It didn't really matter, though. We had some left in the refrigerator down in the lab. I grabbed a couple of wrapped sandwiches before heading back downstairs. When I got there, I saw Bellamy was gone. I set the bottles and food down on his desk and went to grab a cold one for myself. I couldn't believe how early it was and just wanted to go back to sleep for a while. I stretched out on the floor in the far corner, away from the door, so that Bellamy could come back in without hitting me and dozed off.

The dreams I'd left behind this morning came back with a vengeance. By the time I woke up with a scream, my entire body was stiff and sore, like I'd just run a hundred miles. My head pounded as hard as my heart when the thoughts of what was going on in the real world surfaced again.

Atom was at the plant that blew up.

Was he okay?

What would happen to all of us?

Were we far enough away from the fallout?

Were terrorists really attacking our country again?

I didn't even want to think about it and it took every ounce of energy I had to fight back the tears.

But fight I did, because that's all I knew how to do anymore. Checking my cell phone, I saw that the battery hadn't miraculously charged itself. Bellamy wasn't back yet and I had no idea where he'd gone. Maybe something happened to him too. Maybe he went outside and got poisoned. Maybe he was never coming back, just like my mom and dad and Atom and Murphy.

Just like Noah.

I turned on my music, trying to find something loud and angry to listen to. Something that would help me channel the darkness that was building inside of me. There was nothing to do but sit and wait. Dad was gone so there were no new patient files to work on. The internet was still down so I had nothing to do to keep my mind occupied. Instead, I was left sitting in an uncomfortable chair, humming along to the music pumping into my ears. Sitting at my desk, doodling with the headphones on, I didn't even hear the door open. Seeing him there startled me and I turned off the music.

A very nervous and agitated Bellamy paced the floor and running his fingers though his already disheveled hair while reading some papers that were wrinkled in his hand.

"They got to the water." He sighed heavily and slumped down into his chair. "You didn't drink anything did you?"

I wracked my memory and shook my tired head. "Only the stuff that was already here. There was a guy downstairs switching out all of the water bottles in the cafeteria."

Bellamy nodded excitedly. "They drugged the water supply. You should see the people downstairs. It's like everyone is turning into a walking zombie."

I rolled my eyes. For a scientist, he was being pretty dramatic. "Who exactly is behind this zombie apocalypse?" I didn't mean to make fun of his paranoia, but I couldn't help it.

"President Wegner I suppose. I mean, his fingerprints won't be on the bottles, but he's behind it I'm sure of it."

"Get real Nerd-Boy. President Joe might not be your preferred cup of tea, but you can't go blaming a terrorist attack on our commander in chief."

He spun the chair around and glared at me. Studying my face closely, he finally spoke again with measured breath. "Why would they need to switch out perfectly good bottled water Clarke? Unless they are replacing it with something they've drugged? There is way more to the nuclear accidents than they want us to know. And they are messing with people's minds so that we don't question what we don't know."

I leaned back into the fake leather. Maybe he was right. Maybe he was wrong. Either way, it didn't change the fact that we were locked up like animals. If Bellamy was right, we were animals getting ready for slaughter. If he was wrong, we were still locked up and that didn't sit well with me.

At all.

Grabbing the receiver on the in-house phone, I dialed the switchboard operator. Thankfully, the call went through. "I need to have a message sent to Dr. Abby Barrett-Griffin or Dr. Jake Griffin."

"Go ahead," the faceless male voice said.

"Tell them I need to speak with one of them immediately."

"I'm sorry, but communication outside of the hospital is limited to emergency only."

My face turned red. Of course it was. What kind of emergency could I create on such short notice? "Fine, don't tell them I need to talk to them. Just get ahold of one of them and let them know that Noah is here in the hospital."

"Noah?" the voice repeated.

It made me nauseous to say his name out loud, and to hear it made the knife go in a little deeper. "Yes, Noah," I repeated before hanging up.

"You saw Noah?" Bellamy looked more concerned than I'm sure my own mother would be. Dad, on the other hand, would freak out.

"Of course not. But nothing will get the attention of a shrink quicker than hearing that his kid is seeing dead people."

He nodded in concession. "What are you going to say to him if he calls?"

"When he calls," I corrected. "I don't know, I figured I'd wing it. I'll figure out a way to get us out of this god forsaken place."

With that, Bellamy sat up a little straighter. "I need to get to my family."

"What's with that anyway? I mean, I get it that some people might have family that they actually care about, but it seems like there's more to it for you."

He looked down at his hands and started to pick at his fingernails. "My sister is sick. We've lived with my Gramma Rose since my older brother was born. Octavia still lives there. Dad isn't even in the country so Finn and I take turns helping Gramma with her. It's a bit much to expect my grandmother to do, especially in a time like this."

"What's wrong with her?"

"No one really knows for sure. It's almost like she's got L.I.S. just like my mother did, but she functions if you prompt her to."

"I don't get it."

He sighed and twisted the chair back and forth, staring at his hands as he spoke. "She was in the car with my mother when the accident happened. Octavia was in a coma for almost two months and Gramma Rose had decided it was time to make some tough choices."

"You mean pull the plug?" I was stunned and breathless. What a horrible thing to face.

"Dad couldn't do it. He refused to even talk about it, so Gramma took control just like always." He rubbed his hands across his face like he was wiping off spider webs or something before continuing. "Anyway, the day she was going to talk to the doctor about it, Octavia opened her eyes. Ever since, she's been just like she was that day. If you take her by the hand and lead her, she will walk. If you show her pictures, she'll look at them. If you give her food, she can eat it. But she won't get out of bed unless you pull her by the hand. She won't pick up a picture or a book and she won't go after her own food. And she never speaks a word. It's not easy, but we all take turns taking care of her, so we make it work."

I sighed. "How long ago was it?"

Bellamy locked eyes with me and took a deep breath. "It will be two years on September first."

My eyes widened and puzzle pieces fell into place. My eyes burned away the tears that wanted to form and I swallowed hard. "Your mother and sister were in the other car?"

Bellamy nodded while I tried to conjure up the image of the accident site that was burned into my memory. A stranger's red Honda was totaled in the middle of the road, the front end buckled into oblivion. Broken glass sparkled like ice under the moon light. Blue and red lights flashed into the night while crews of EMTs did everything they could to get the two women out of the car. In the end, they had to use power tools to cut off the roof in order to pull them out. By the time I got there, an ambulance was racing toward town and an adult shaped form was covered with a white tarp lying next to the wreckage.

Noah's car was wrapped around a telephone pole on the wrong side of the rural road. They said there wasn't any mechanical problems and couldn't find any reason for him to lose control. Even in the court ordered autopsy, they couldn't find any trace of drugs or alcohol on him. I could've saved them the trouble. Noah never touched anything harder than coffee. Even though the investigators said the accident was Noah's fault, I always thought there was something more to the story.

And now I knew.

"Your mother tried to kill herself a long time ago." I didn't bother to hide the angry tears this time. "Did she succeed this time? Was she so desperate to die that she had to kill my boyfriend too?"

Bellamy's gaze dropped to his lap and he picked at his fingernails. I didn't know how to interpret his silence so I said nothing and waited for him to at least try to defend his mother. Finally, his shoulders rose high before slumping back down again and his voice softly muttered.

"I don't know what happened that night any more than you do. All I know is that my life changed that day. My mother died, my father was too cowardly to face life without her and left us, my sister is disabled, and I lost a friend."

"You were friends with Noah?" I couldn't believe that. For over two years, Noah and I were inseparable. Other than classes that we didn't share, which weren't many, we were always together. Even at night, he'd sneak into my room and curl up in the bed next to me, leaving just in time for our parents to never know.

Bellamy nodded and shrugged his shoulders a little bit. "It's not like we hung out all the time or anything, but I'd say we were friends."

"How did you know him?"

Bellamy shook his head and pushed himself up. "It doesn't really matter anymore," he said quickly. "Are you hungry?" He walked over to the fridge and grabbed a wrapped sandwich. I wasn't hungry.

There was too much going on around me to even think about food. If Bellamy was panicking before about wanting to get out of here, I was freaking out even more. But I took a deep breath and refused to let it show. Instead, I turned away and picked up the house phone again. When the operator answered, I let my voice raise a few octaves so that she could hear my fear.

"I swear to God, Noah Carter is in this hospital," I screeched into the handset while trying to make my voice sound gravelly. "Please, you have to find my mom or dad."

"Alright Clarke," the faceless woman said calmly. "Try to relax, and I'll get ahold of them for you."

I heard her tone shift at the end of the call and when I placed the handset back into the cradle, I smiled to myself. I didn't even bother taking my eyes off the phone. I knew it would ring soon, and sure enough, not even two minutes passed before the red light started flashing. I pressed the button that made the call come in on the speaker.

"Dad?" I let it sound like I was sobbing, even though not a single tear fell. Bellamy was leaning against his desk with his arms folded in front of him. I couldn't tell if he was enjoying the show or not, but he looked interested at least. "Daddy, he's here. I saw him in the cafeteria. How can that be Daddy?"

I was surprised to hear the firm but very feminine voice on the other end of the call. "Calm yourself Clarke," my mother said. "Noah isn't there. You probably just saw someone who resembles him."

"No Mom!" I nearly shouted into the phone and rolled my eyes. "It was him, I swear it! But he looked right past me, like he didn't even know I was there. What if this isn't real, Mommy?" I had to play my cards right. Giving the cold hearted woman a tender nickname might instill a little sympathy. "What if this is just another nightmare I can't wake up from?"

"You're okay, Clarke, just focus on the sound of my voice." Dr. Abby Bartlett-Griffin was using her best 'calm the freaking out patient down as quickly as possible' voice. "I want you to go to the cafeteria…"

"But what if he's still there?" I whined.

"He's not, sweetie. Go to the cafeteria and get yourself something to eat and drink."

"I already did," I sniffed.

"You did?" There was something off in the way she said it. "How long ago?"

"Just now." It was working. "Please come get me?"

"I can't do that right now, Clarke. There's a lot of people here that need my help." She continued to sound soothing. "Just make sure you drink plenty of water. I'll call the security office and tell them to give you extra. Go to find Kim, she should be in the ER. I'll call her and let her know that you're coming to get some Midazolam. That will help you sleep."

"I can't sleep, Mommy. Not here. It's too…" I took a deep breath. "It's hard to sleep on the floor. Just come and take me home! Please?"

I could hear her exasperated sigh before she started scolding me. "Clarke Elizabeth, I am two hours away. I can't leave just to give you a ride home."

"I can get her home, ma'am," Bellamy offered out of the blue. He raised his eyebrows as his eyes got wider. I could tell he was worried that he'd said the wrong thing but I knew he wanted to get out of here just as bad as I did.

"Who's that with you?" Abby snapped.

"It's Bellamy. We've been locked in here for days it feels like."

"Has he eaten anything?"

"Yes ma'am," Bellamy answered for himself. His eyes darted around the room and settled on the wrapped sandwiches I'd left on the desk. "I just ate a sandwich. I've got a pot of coffee brewing right now."

"You can't use the tap water there Bellamy." Abby began to sound concerned.

I interjected. "There was a nice man in the cafeteria who was bringing in the rations. He let me have a few extra bottles of water. We each drank one and decided to make coffee with the other two."

I could hear nothing but silence on my mother's end of the call. I was beginning to wonder if we'd lost connection when she cleared her throat. "Your father came up on one of the buses, so his truck should still be in the parking garage. I'll see if I can get you clearance to leave, but you have to be very careful. Don't get out of the truck until you close the garage door at home. Don't drink any of the water or eat any of the food at the house. And by all means, stay inside! We still don't know with certainty how far the radiation clouds have reached."

"Okay, do I still need to go find Kim first?"

Abby replied quickly. "Of course you do, and take the medicine right away. Bellamy, can you drive her home? I'm sure you have things to do back at the hospital, but it would be kind of you to drop her off before heading back to work."

I could see the mental wheels turning behind Bellamy's eyes as he instantly agreed to help. Within minutes, we'd stuffed all of the old water and food into our bags, gathered up our things, and were heading down to the emergency room to find my mother's favorite nurse. Sure enough, Kim was just coming out of the pharmacy when we got to the admitting desk.

She smiled wide at the both of us and handed me a bottle of little white pills. "These will only last for a few hours. Take one with a full bottle of water and when you wake up, if your mother hasn't gotten home yet, take another. She insisted that I remind you how important it is for you to not get dehydrated." She handed me a few bottles of water that were sitting on the counter. I opened the water and popped a pill in my mouth. It dissolved instantly, and I turned my back so that Kim couldn't see me spit everything back into the bottle.

I smiled and looked around, keeping the frightened, doe-eyes on my face the whole time while I shook my head to let her know I understood. "Are you sure it's safe to go outside?" I was trying to look scared, but in all actuality, it wasn't a hard thing to do. I still didn't know what it looked like outside. Maybe we would have to steer around debris blown into our town like a tornado hit. There might be people dead on the streets, or covered in blisters and crying out for help. Heck, for all I knew, the sun wasn't even shining anymore.

"You'll be fine, but just in case, take these too." She grabbed two blister packs of a different medication from the top of a pile that sat on the desk and handed them to me. "They will counteract any possible radiation exposure you might get in the short time you're out there."

I nodded again and looked down. They were labeled Potassium Iodide. There were fourteen pills in each packet. "Take them all?" I asked cautiously.

Kim shook her head and gave me a stern look, a look that I was used to seeing on my mother's face. "Take one now, and then one a day until they're gone or your mother says it's safe to stop."

"Okay." I managed a weak smile before thanking her and shuffling toward the parking garage. It took every ounce of willpower in my body not to take off at a dead run, but if anyone saw me here, I needed to make sure it looked like I was scared to death, afraid of my own shadow.

Bellamy walked next to me, slowing his normal quick pace to match mine. Even though I kept my head down for the most part, I couldn't help but notice how many people were milling about with the same weird, glassy expression that the water delivery man wore. The usual morning laughter of nurses and staff was gone, replaced by stoic silence. Every single step I took echoed against the walls and down the hallway. Not one single person bothered to notice the two teenagers that wandered past them. It wasn't until we reached the door to the parking garage that anyone paid attention to us.

A tall, burly security guard stood at the door. Instead of wearing the usual blue uniform of the hospital staff, he was dressed in black military gear. The gun in his hip holster looked deadly and I shuddered to think what would have happened if we'd tried to break out of here. He glared at us and I could tell he was about to yell about being in a restricted area, but then his eyes settled on the ID badge that was still clipped to the front of my shirt.

"You have your K-I?" he asked.

I didn't have a clue what that meant, so I gave a pleading look to Bellamy for help. He patted his bag and nodded. "Dr. Bartlett-Griffin already gave us instructions for the potassium iodide," he replied calmly.

The man didn't say another word. Instead, he punched in the security code to unlock the door to the doctors' private parking garage and clicked the speaker on his radio. "Prep for one coming out," he said as the door opened.

"Ten-four," someone replied as he ushered us out into the darkness. Some of the overhead lights were on, but it wasn't bright like usual. Shadows danced between each vehicle and the echoes of our boots were even louder than before. If this were a horror movie instead of real life, I knew the murderer would be hiding behind the one tall van parked halfway down the row. The clicking of the door lock behind us was so sharp it sounded like someone broke a branch and I jumped despite myself. It no longer mattered what the world looked like outside. There was no going back now.

We made our way down the rows to the back of the garage. Obviously, my mother wasn't the only one around here who thought my father's position didn't warrant any sort of dignity. While Dr. Abby Barrett-Griffin's brand new Porsche was parked in a spot right next to the hospital doors, Dr. Jake Griffin's designated area was located as far away as possible in the very back corner of the garage. As we neared the black SUV, I pulled out my keychain from my bag. When I'd gotten my driver's license, he gave me a spare set of keys in case I ever needed to go somewhere and he wasn't around. Not that it mattered, I walked everywhere. I hadn't driven a car since the day Noah died, so I handed the keys to Bellamy.

"You want me to drive?" He seemed surprised as he palmed the shiny silver keys.

My only reply was to open the passenger door and climb in. It took Bellamy a few minutes to get the seats and mirrors adjusted to fit his tall body, and when everything was finally in its proper, safe place, he slowly backed out of the space and headed for the exit.

I held my breath while the soldiers opened the doors for us. I just knew in my gut that there would be a red or gray haze in the sky, maybe a mushroom cloud in the distance, both signs of the devastation that had taken place just yesterday.


	7. Chapter 7

The bright blue skies nearly blinded me and it took a few seconds for my pupils to adjust to the drastic change. Other than the heavily armed soldiers surrounding the building at regular intervals while holding automatic weapons at the ready, nothing looked different at all. As we drove through the quiet streets, I could see signs plastered on the fronts of every business instructing people to stay inside their homes and follow instructions on the news until further notice. Citizens were informed that anyone caught outside would be immediately transferred to a medical facility to seek radiation exposure medication.

"I thought it would look different," I said absently while reading each sign I could. If I was actually expecting one to say something different, I would have been let down. We passed the skate park and the emptiness was a little sad. It was too early for the kids to be there hanging out, but I still couldn't help but wonder where they all were now. Atom was supposed to be working at the plant, but I held out hope that he'd partied too hard and slept too late to make it on time for his first day. It wouldn't have been the first time he blew off employment. And who knew where Murphy was. I just prayed he wasn't with his brother for some stupid reason.

Bellamy agreed with me and added, "Something isn't right about this, I just know it."

I didn't want to argue with his stupid conspiracy theories again, so I decided to pilfer through my bag, looking for gum or mints. I hadn't brushed my teeth in a day and a half and I couldn't begin to imagine how horrible my breath must be right now. On the top of everything was a scrap of paper that had my father's hurried writing scratched on it.

 _If you make it out of the hospital, stay at the house until I come get you,_

 _no matter what anyone says._

 _Talk to no one. Take Bellamy with you._

 _Hide if you have to._

 _I love you. Dad_

I held it up and showed Bellamy. His eyes bounced back and forth between the road and the note until he'd read the whole thing. "Looks like we did the right thing getting out of there?" By making it a question instead of a statement, I could tell Bellamy wasn't sure how to respond.

I nodded and stared straight ahead, swallowing hard and forgetting about the gum. Maybe Bellamy wasn't just paranoid. Or maybe my father had just been hanging around him for too long and it was contagious. Either way, I figured the smartest thing we could do was follow his orders. "My mother said you have to go back to the hospital. Are you going to run?"

Bellamy's fingers started nervously drumming on the steering wheel. "I have to get to my family. I can't help them if I'm stuck in the lab."

"Do you think Dad wanted you to stay at the house, too?"

I didn't wait for him to answer. Instead, I grabbed the satchel from behind his seat and opened it. Sure enough there was a note was shoved into Bellamy's bag.

 _Do anything you can to get out of the hospital._

 _Take Clarke with you and keep her safe._

 _I'll be in touch as soon as I can._

 _I know I can trust you._

 _Jake_

I held it up for Bellamy to see and could see his mind was racing.

"How am I going to explain not going back like Dr. Bartlett-Griffin instructed? She seemed pretty insistent on it." My own mind joined in the contest to see who could come up with a better answer first. Apparently, Bellamy was winning. "Is the prescription she gave you normally used for sleeping?"

"Mida-something." I rustled around in my bag to find the brown bottle.

"Midazolam, right? That will knock you out cold. They use it to sedate patients before procedures sometimes. Maybe I could call her and leave a message that you needed supervision or something?"

"Do you really think she'd care about that? The woman doesn't have a kind bone in her body."

Bellamy shot me a shocked look. "She's your mother! Of course she cares!"

I shook my head slowly. "No, she knows exactly what the effects of this drug are. She wanted me to be so sound asleep that I wouldn't bother her anymore. And she clearly doesn't give a crap about your well-being either, or else she wouldn't want you to take a second trip through the radiation to go back to the hospital. She would've told you to stay put, too. The Potassium was Kim's idea, not my mother's."

Bellamy got quiet and didn't say anything else for the next few blocks that it took to pull into my driveway. I hit the garage door opener on my father's dashboard and waited with baited breath while Bellamy eased the SUV inside. Part of me expected there to be something awful waiting for us inside, but what I saw looked like every other time I'd seen the inside of my garage. Nothing was out of place. Great, I thought to myself. Now Bellamy's paranoia was getting to me, too.

When we got inside, I flipped on the lights which flickered to life immediately. At least there were no power outages, I thought. Of course we had power, I scolded myself. The garage door wouldn't have opened if we didn't. I needed to calm myself down so I could at least think clearly. I sat my bag down on the counter and turned on the television that was mounted on the wall. The news came on and I saw a wide eyed, frightened news anchor.

"We still have no idea how widespread this disaster will be, so again, I urge everyone to stay inside their homes. Anyone who has a fallout shelter should contact your local police department and report your rations so that the government knows who needs supplies." Her co-anchor added, "Clearly they want to make sure that those who are without get help first. Citizens with shelters will be contacted once those who are in dire need are helped first."

I noticed Bellamy standing at the sink, dumping the water bottles that Kim gave me down the sink. I was so tired, from lack of sleep and nightmares when I did manage to get some rest. All I wanted to do was crawl into my comfortable bed.

"I'm gonna take a shower. There's another bathroom in my parents' room if you want one too."

Bellamy placed the empty bottles on the countertop and followed me upstairs. I directed him to the master suite and showed him where to find towels before heading to my own room. Once inside, my eyes were immediately drawn to the bed. The comforter was still pulled back and disheveled like I'd just crawled out of it only moments before. It was hard to believe that I'd spent so many hours away from home. Every minute that passed, it was even more difficult to gauge the passing of time correctly. I didn't even notice that the shower felt good or that all of the conditioner got rinsed out of my hair. The soft down of my pillow wrapped around my head like a comforting hug. Before I knew what happened, blackness surrounded me.

I don't know how long I was asleep, but I woke up to the feel of Bellamy roughly shaking me.

"Wake up, Clarke." He spoke in a frantic whisper. "Clarke. Come on."

It took a few seconds for me to realize this wasn't part of a dream. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes didn't help clear my vision at all, but as I sat up, I felt cool air hit my bare skin. I grabbed the blanket quickly so that I didn't flash him and wrapped it around my torso. "What's wrong? Is Dad here?"

Bellamy shook his head. "No, it's soldiers. They're going door to door checking all the houses."

My heart leapt into my throat. "They're here?"

Bellamy moved over to my dresser and pulled open several drawers. I watched with confusion while he pulled out handfuls of clothes and scattered them around the room. He grabbed a duffel bag and started shoving clothes into it. Almost like it was an afterthought, he tossed a pair of jeans and a tank top onto my bed.

"Get dressed," he ordered before going into my bathroom. As I pulled the shirt on, I could hear him rifling around in drawers and cabinets. My bedroom had never been the tidiest of places, but it now looked like I'd been robbed or something.

"What are you doing?" I hopped off the bed and was buttoning my jeans as I half ran into the bathroom.

"Dr. Griffin said to keep you safe and hide. That's what we're doing." He didn't bother to look away from his task. I could see a few towels and soap had been tossed onto the top of my clothing. He pushed my make-up bag to the side and opened my medicine cabinet. I had a few months' worth of birth control pills that he tossed in before he moved on to the cabinet under the sink. Embarrassment crept up my checks when he grabbed the two boxes of tampons and tossed them in as well.

"What are you doing?" I repeated through clenched teeth.

He stood straight up and looked at me. He didn't look like some dork in the high school gym anymore. Bellamy was impressive and in complete control. "It might be a while before you can come back here. You don't think you might find a need for this stuff? I hate to break it to you, but I doubt WalMart is going to be open for a while."  
I definitely wasn't used to a boy talking so matter-of-factly about stuff like this. Once when Murphy was looking for a lighter in my purse, he accidentally picked up a tampon and dropped it like it was on fire. He expressed several sentiments of disgust before letting the embarrassing subject drop.

"Put on your boots," Bellamy ordered, brushing past me with my overstuffed bag in his hand. I sat on my bed and laced them up tightly.

"Where are we going?"

"I don't know." He opened my closet doors and shoved the hangers out of the way. Shoe boxes stacked up against the back wall along with boxes of school memorabilia that my father insisted I keep 'just in case I'd want them when I was grown up'. He shifted them to the side, deposited my duffel bag in the back corner and quickly stacked everything to hide it. To add to the destruction of my room, he pulled a few clothing items off hangers and let them fall to the closet floor. "Where is the attic?"

"We don't have one," I grumbled, confused about what his plans might be.

Bellamy rolled his eyes. "Basement? Crawlspace?"

Now he started pacing, running his hands through his damp hair, muttering words that were only audible to himself. "What about a closet or something small enough that they won't look inside, but big enough that you can fit into?"

My mind raced. There wasn't anything that I could think of right away. I heard a high pitched scream coming from outside of the house.

Looking out the window, I could see my neighbor crying out as the soldiers forced her son into a large black van. There were at least a dozen soldiers wearing black and brandishing those awful guns headed straight for my house.

I grabbed Bellamy's hand and ran for my father's bedroom. In their bathroom was a tall linen closet. The bottom three shelves came out to give access to the water lines behind the shower. "I used to hide in here when I was little. It'll be tight..." Carefully, I pulled out the linens and removed the shelves. With little effort, the back wall popped free and I waited for Bellamy to crawl inside.

I couldn't see him, but I could hear him bumping into a pipe and quietly cursing. Replacing the shelves and linens, I squeezed through the small space left open at the bottom before trying to stand up to replace the back wall. It was stifling, with barely room to breathe, let alone move. It took both of us acting like contortionists to slide the wall back into place.

Our bodies flattened against each other, his hands resting lightly around my back while mine were against his chest. My face pressed against his chest, I could hear his heart beating fast and strong. Bellamy's chin was right against the top of my head, and for a minute, it was almost like he was hugging me, the way Noah used to. I closed my eyes, wanting to relive my memories for just a minute. I hadn't allowed anyone other than Murphy to hold me for so long and for once, it felt good to be in contact with another human being.

The moment ended quickly when we heard the front door below us get smashed in. I could hear the heavy footsteps of the soldiers as they clamored up the stairs. Doors were opened and slammed, I could hear things banging to the floor and against walls. When the sounds came closer, I could feel Bellamy's grip around me tighten. His heart raced even faster and I prayed the soldiers outside couldn't hear it. I held my breath when the bathroom door opened.  
The voices sounded muffled, as if the soldiers were wearing masks or something. I couldn't tell what they were doing, but I could hear cabinet doors opening and closing. A single tear fell from my eye when the door to the linen closet we were in opened.

"Nothing." One of the soldiers growled.

"They said she'd be here," another replied.

It was my turn to have a heart beat so loud the world could hear it. Bellamy pulled me into him even tighter if that were possible. I could feel his fingertips making small circles on my lower back, trying to calm me down.

"Well she's not!"

Another voice joined the conversation, a woman this time. "Her room is trashed. Looks like she took off pretty fast."

"Couldn't have been very long ago," the first man said. "The shower is still wet in here."

"Her bathroom has been used recently as well. Do you think they are together?"

"I doubt the little brat can manage on her own," the woman replied with a laugh. "I'm sure she is with him. He's the one that's smart enough to find a way to survive out there, not her."

My body stiffened. Anger seeped from every pore. How dare she assume I'm weak and useless? If Bellamy hadn't squeezed my hips, I probably wouldn't bolted from my hiding spot just to smack the bitch.

"Put out an alert. We're looking for Blake and the girl then."

"Did you find her?" I could hear the breathless voice of my father rushing into the large bathroom and joining the conference. "She didn't take my truck."

"No, sir," the woman replied. "She can't be far though."

"Please," my father begged. "You have to find her before she gets the sickness."

"We will do our best. Where would she go?" The tone of the woman's voice reminded me of a concerned cop from a bad television show.

"Bellamy once told me that he wanted to go to Colorado." My father seemed genuinely interested in helping these people hunt us down. "He once accidentally slipped that he hated being trapped here taking care of his aging grandmother and disabled sister. He's got some old friends or something out there and always wanted to go to the mountains."

The woman chuckled a little bit. "From his file, he doesn't seem like the ski-bunny type."

My father interjected his own thoughts on the matter. "I'm not sure skiing was his goal, escaping his life is. My daughter is impulsive and irresponsible enough to convince him to take her with him."

"Any specific place in Colorado? Did he mention any names or specifics?" The woman's voice got a little quieter as she spoke, as if they were leaving the room. I could hear my father respond, but couldn't make out the words anymore.

It wasn't until I hear the bedroom door close that I felt safe to breathe again. We stayed pressed against each other and silent for several minutes. Listening closely, we could hear footsteps clomping down the stairs and eventually, the front door opened and closed leaving the house in stillness. My legs were tired from standing so still for so long. I tried to crouch down to move the wall again, but Bellamy grabbed me again.

"Not yet," he whispered.

"They're gone," I protested. I wanted to get out of here. The dark, tight quarters were starting to unnerve me almost as much as the soldiers did.

I could feel the ends of Bellamy's hair brush against my face as he shook his head. "I watched them leave, but go back inside a few minutes later to catch anyone who was hiding. We have to stay put."

I started to protest again, but he shushed me. "Just for a little while longer," he reassured me.

We stayed, frozen in place, for what seemed like forever. Just like he predicted, a few minutes passed and then the footsteps came back. This time it didn't sound like there were as many soldiers, but they were sweeping the entire house.

I held my breath again and buried my face in Bellamy's chest when they came into the bathroom. My muscles cramped from being so tense, and when the soldiers left again, I couldn't move if I wanted to.

Once Bellamy was sure they were gone, he moved his hands off of me and reached for the wall. We had to twist and turn, but finally, he got the wall to move out of the way. My elbow slammed against the pipes and I cried out with the nerve spasm. Bellamy slowly turned and manipulated my body so that I could crouch down and climb out of the tiny space. When I emerged into the dark bathroom, I took a deep breath of fresh air and waited for Bellamy to get out. When he finally stood up, there was cobwebs stuck in his hair and several scratches on his cheek. One of them was deep enough to allow blood to drip down to his chin.

I grabbed a washcloth and ran it under warm water while he replaced the wall, shelves, and linens so that no one would notice there was a space back there if they ever came back inside. When he finished, I instructed him to lean against the counter so that I could clean the cuts.

Bellamy's arms crossed in front of his body tightly, as if he was fighting the urge to shrink away from the contact. I ignored his unease and cleaned his wounds slowly, taking care to make sure there weren't any rust flakes or dirt left in his skin. After applying some anti-biotic cream and a bandage, I started to put away the supplies and then re-thought it. We might need this too, wherever it was that we ended up going.

Before I could put away everything, Bellamy grabbed the washcloth and rinsed his blood from it. Pressing it against my elbow, he pointed out the fact that I was bleeding, too. I washed off the area tossed the rag into the laundry hamper. "Now what?"

Bellamy shrugged and headed toward the door. "Now we decide where to run to."

"I take it Colorado isn't on the short list anymore?"

Bellamy didn't bother responding. Instead, he went into my room and walked straight to the closet. He didn't bother to be careful when he knocked over the stack of boxes to get to the duffel bag he'd hidden earlier. I went to the window and watched as the soldiers were continuing down the street. My father was walking down the street away from the house, talking to someone who looked like he was in charge.

"Dad is still here." I pointed out the window and Bellamy cautiously peeked through the curtains. "Should we go back to the bathroom?"

"No," Bellamy replied quickly. "He's up to something. I just don't know what it is yet."

I stifled a sarcastic laugh. "Yeah, he's trying to help them find us no doubt."

"Your father warned us. He's not the bad guy here."

"So he made up the whole Colorado thing just to throw them off?"

Bellamy's entire body stiffened, his expression falling sadly, but didn't reply. Instead, he quietly watched as the soldiers moved farther and farther away from my house. Eventually, the skies began to grow dark and the only sign of them was the fading taillights of the black vehicles they drove.

I was sitting on my bed, wondering what was next. Normally, I was in complete control and didn't think too far ahead of the heat of the moment. This time, I knew I couldn't be casual about my actions. I'd prove my father wrong about my impulsive irresponsibility if it was the last thing I did. Finally, I couldn't stand Bellamy's silence anymore.

"I'm going to find Murphy." I headed for the door and Bellamy's fingers wrapped around my arm tightly. I hadn't even noticed his movement, but with his long strides, he'd easily reached me before I could leave the room.

"I know he's your boyfriend and you're really worried about him, but you can't just go out there and look for him when you have no idea where he is."

I glared up at his face. "He's not my boyfriend. He's my best friend. You wouldn't know anything about that though would you? How many friends do you have out there to worry about?" I watched his face crumble as he let go of me.

"Your father instructed me to keep you safe, and that means you aren't leaving this house until we have a plan." He walked out of my room and down the stairs before I could register a protest.

When I found him again, he was rifling through my bag and pulled out the blister packs of potassium pills. He popped out two and handed one to me before swallowing one himself. "Take this, just in case this is real out there."

I swallowed it, the glare in my eyes becoming a permanent decoration on my face. Bellamy's eyes widened when a strange sound came from the garage. He grabbed my bag and we both ducked into the living room, ready to run out the back patio door.

I could hear the kitchen door open slowly, a strange grunt, and the sound of something dragging against the ceramic tile floor. I heard the door closing again before my father's voice called out for Bellamy.

He gave me a cautious look and signaled for me to stay put. "If you hear me say run, do it and don't look back. Okay?" His whisper brushed against my cheek. I grabbed the handle of the door, ready to open it and bolt at a moment's notice and nodded.

Slowly and silently, Bellamy crept across the plush carpet toward the kitchen. My father called out one more time. I could tell he was leaving the kitchen and walking toward where we were. My grip tightened, and I unlatched the lock. Bellamy glanced back at me. He grabbed the poker from the fireplace and pressed his body against the wall.

My father appeared around the corner just as Bellamy raised the weapon to strike him. He noticed the glint of metal and threw his hands up to protect his face. Bellamy's biceps bulged, keeping the weapon ready to strike, but not swinging it any farther.

"Tell me what's going on right now, or I swear to God, I'll use this." Bellamy's voice was strong and menacing. I had no doubt he meant what he said.

"They're gone, you don't have to worry." My father took a few steps back and his eyes swept across the room. When they settled on me, he started to come over to me.

Bellamy stepped in between us, blocking his path. "What's going on?" he repeated, still poised to strike.

My father held his hands up in surrender again and looked at both of us. "I'm not the enemy here. You can put that down, son." He was calm and reassuring, but I saw Bellamy hesitate before lowering the poker. "I don't know what they are doing, truly I don't. But it's not good, whatever it is."

"Was there really a nuclear meltdown at the plant?" Bellamy's conspiracy theories were surfacing again.

Dad nodded and hung his head. "A lot of people are dead, thousands more injured. It wasn't just the Quad Cities either. They hit both coasts too."

"I saw that on the news." I walked over to the couch and sat down on the edge of the cushion. "Who did it?"

"A terrorist group has claimed responsibility already, but it's no one I've ever heard of before." Dad sat next to me and tried to take my hand in his. Instinctively, I pulled away and moved to the chair. He sighed and continued. "The National Army has been called into all areas to secure the population and search for any terrorists that may still be near."

"Why are they looking for me specifically?" I might have gotten myself into a lot of trouble in the past two years, but I was no terrorist.

"They say the group is using teenagers to enact their plans. The Amusement Park Terrorists were all under 25, remember. They said it's the same group and there are a few of your friends from the skate park that have been named. I'm sure they just want to question you, that's all."

"If that was all, why did you tell us to hide?" I was suspicious, but not of the government like Bellamy. It was my father I didn't trust right now.

My father swallowed hard. Any color that was still in his face left it while his chose his words carefully. "I was afraid when I heard about the accident. More afraid of anything in my entire life and I wanted you to be safe just in case my suspicions were right. You know the maximum security prison outside of town?"

I nodded. We'd driven past it many times on our way to the city for some reason or another.

My father continued. "When I was coming back, we were stopped at a roadblock there. While they checked all of our identification, I saw the trucks." His whole body shuddered.

"What trucks?" Bellamy asked, still too tense to sit down.

"Black ones, tactical units like the ones here that they are using to load up people. They were taking them inside the fence line. There had to be over fifty and I imagine they were full."

"There's something else, isn't there?" Bellamy pressed my father when he looked like he wasn't going to say anymore.

"I saw another truck. It was a semi with a long dump trailer on it. It was coming out. There were bodies piled so far deep that I could see limbs hanging out of the tarp." Jake leaned back into the cushions and pressed his hands against his eyes as if he were trying to force the memory away from his mind. "I think they killed the prisoners there to make room for new ones."

"What new prisoners?" Bellamy coaxed.

"Children," my father choked back a sob and looked me dead in the eye. "Kids just like you."

My heart jumped into my throat and Bellamy sat down limply. It took a while for it to sink in and when it did, I wanted to scream.

"They can't do this," I said.

"I told you…"

I cut off Bellamy before he could say the rest. "I have to get to Murphy. He needs to be warned so he can get out of here before they find him."

I stood up and went to the front door. I didn't care who saw me. I was fast, I could outrun anyone who chased me. Besides, they'd already left my neighborhood.

My hand was on the knob when I heard my father's quiet voice call out from behind me.

"They've already got him."

I started sweating and shaking. This couldn't be true, I told myself. It was just another sick nightmare and I'd wake up soon to find everything was still like it should be. Murphy would be wrapped up in my blankets, sound asleep and safe. There was no way he was in a truck headed for a prison. I pinched my arm, trying to make myself wake up, but all I accomplished was causing an ugly red welt that matched the pain in my cut elbow.

The two men behind me continued the conversation, forgetting all about the fact that my world was falling apart completely.

"Where is the computer chip?" My father asked Bellamy.

"It's in my apartment," he replied. "In the bathroom, hidden in the toilet paper roll."

I could hear my father get up but I still couldn't take my hand off the doorknob. It was as if I was frozen, and if I moved I might shatter.

"Good, I'll find a way to get it. I can get the two of you to your grandmother's house. Your mother used to talk about a shelter there?"

Bellamy was walking behind him, answering as they went toward the kitchen. "Yes, there are several hiding spots."

"Good, I need your help to get this upstairs."

I could hear them in the kitchen, fumbling with something that sounded heavy by the groans and dragging noises I heard. I forced myself to turn toward the living room and saw them dragging a large black bag with a zipper that ran the length of it. I swallowed hard when I realized it was a body bag. I wanted to cry out, to scream at the top of my lungs, but the shock of everything still had its hold on me. Instead of doing anything, I watched them drag the thing up the stairs and disappear around the corner headed toward my bedroom.

I left the doorknob behind, unsteady on my feet, and found my way up the stairs. When I shuffled into my bedroom, I saw them stripping the body of a young girl with blond hair. Bellamy was putting my clothes on her stiffened body. I tried not to, but there was nothing to stop me from throwing up all over the floor in front of me.

Bellamy was at my side in an instant and moved me over to sit on my bed. "Put your head down and breathe," he ordered. I shrunk away from his touch, from the hands that were just touching a dead body.

He went back over to help my father as the room spun around me. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. Right before my eyes, my father and his lackey were dressing a corpse in my clothes. It wasn't real when Bellamy pulled a pair of my boots on her. I felt like I was stuck in a horror movie when my father shoved the body into the back corner of my closet where Bellamy had hidden my duffel bag only a few hours ago.

"Get me those candles," Jake ordered, pointing toward the numerous scented candles I had on my nightstand to cover up the smell of cigarette smoke. My body was stiff, cold, and unable to move a muscle. I watched them stage the closet and shove the girl's hospital gown into the bag before rolling it up into a small ball. "Go to my truck. I'll meet you down there in a minute."

Bellamy nodded and headed toward the door, only stopping when he realized I wasn't following him. He came over and took my hand in his. Again, I wanted to pull away, but I couldn't. I desperately wanted to stand up and run away, but I must've been in shock and couldn't do anything.

Bellamy crouched in front of me and took my face in his hands. Tilting my head up so that I could look into his soft brown eyes, I could see the concern replacing his determination. "Clarke, come on. We have to get out of here." I could feel his fingers tap on my cheek lightly, as if he was trying to get my attention, but I couldn't do respond with anything more than a stare. "Dr. Griffin?" Bellamy's voice registered panic.

My father moved from his task in the closet and stood over me. "Did she eat or drink anything at the hospital?"

Bellamy shook his head. "Not that I saw. Dr. Bartlett-Griffin had one of her nurses give her some Midazolam, but she just pretended to take it. I saw her spit it all back into the bottle."

From the corner of my eye, I could see my father's frantic movements. "It's more powerful than I imaged," he said.

He pulled a small penlight from his pocket and moved Bellamy out of the way so that he could examine me. The light glared into my brain, but I didn't really care enough to do more than blink it away. The more I wanted to strike out and get away from them, the easier it was to sit back and let the world spin around me.

"How potent is it?" Bellamy asked.

"If she spit it out right away, this can only mean instant absorption. They've had the formula for years now. Who knows what they've done to improve it. We need to get moving. Can you carry her?"

No, I wanted to scream. I didn't need help. I was strong and independent and self-sufficient. Surely I could walk on my own. I put my feet on the floor and pushed myself up. It took every bit of determination I had in me to make my feet move, one in front of the other. It wasn't until I felt Bellamy's arms slide underneath my body that I realized I was still on the bed.

I could feel every step he took, every single time my body bounced or shifted in his arms. I could see the walls of my home, the pictures that sat on the tables, and the furniture that sat empty as though they were waiting to comfort a visitor. I saw the gleaming surfaces of the silver appliances in the kitchen and even the tiny white veins that ran through the marble countertops as we passed by. My head was heavy and I wanted to sleep. Still convinced this was just an awful dream, I let my eyes close and didn't even seem to notice when Bellamy deposited me in the back of my father's SUV.

I heard him open the trunk next to the truck I was in. I could hear him shuffling something around and a heavy thud against the concrete floor. If I listened close enough, I could hear Bellamy's labored efforts dragging the object into the house. Bile filled my throat again. It sounded so much like the first thing my father brought into the house, I just knew in my heart that it was another body. I tried to force the thought away from my mind and soon enough, all I saw was my favorite memory.

 _Noah was sitting on the hood of his car, watching me come out of the front door of my house. I twirled in a circle, letting the beautiful gown's fabric dance around my body. The smile I wore wasn't nearly as big as his when he pushed himself off of the car and gathered me in his strong arms. You look like a Princess, he said before tipping my chin up to kiss me. I could taste his lips and smell the cologne he wore. The warm cotton shirt collar brushed against my collarbone when he wrapped his arms around me even tighter and lifted me in the air. We have an audience, he said. I told him I loved him and that I wanted the whole world to know it. I love you too, Clarke. Forever._

Tears fell from the corners of my eyes and left a cold streak on my cheeks before spilling onto the carpeted floor of the SUV underneath my paralyzed body. It wasn't fair that I couldn't move but I could cry. The frustration built inside me, overpowered by the grief of what my new reality was becoming. My friends were probably dead or imprisoned. I had to run away and had nowhere to go. I wasn't strong, or independent, or reckless.

I was scared.

The hatch to the SUV opened, letting in cool air. The light behind them was bright, leaving only their silhouettes visible to me, but I didn't care. I pressed my face into the carpet and tried my best to stop crying. Bellamy climbed in and laid down beside me, curling his body so that our bodies took up at little space as possible. A blanket covered us from head to toe and I felt my father carefully place other objects on top of it.

I could hear that door close and then my father climbed in behind the wheel and started the engine. "I can get you to the farm, but I'll have to leave right away. You understand what I need you to do, right?"

I could feel Bellamy's words vibrate against my chest when he responded. "Yes sir."

My body shook with fear and anguish as we pulled out of the garage. Bellamy moved the blanket to expose our faces and he strained to watch out of the darkened window. In the dark outside, I could see the growing glow in the sky around us. I could smell smoke on Bellamy's t-shirt and wondered what happened. My father's voice broke the silence.

He sounded more frantic than I'd ever heard him before. "My house is on fire!" he yelled at someone. "My files, everything! You have to come!" There was silence for a few moments before he spoke again. I could tell he was on the phone with someone. "What do you mean all of the units are busy? This is my house we're talking about! Do you understand who I am?" He paused again before yelling at whoever was on the other end of the call. "Fine, but I will hold you personally responsible if I lose everything. Get that message to General Herrick."

I could hear him drop the phone onto the seat next to him. The vibration of tires beneath us lulled me into a quiet place. Even though I couldn't see what was happening, I began to understand what was going on. The bodies were replacements for me and Bellamy. My father placed them there and burned the house down so that everyone would think we were dead. Even if Murphy was still alive, he would think I wasn't, so there was no way he would ever try to find me.

I sniffed back tears again and tried not to think about it anymore.

Even when Bellamy gently wiped the tears off of my cheeks, I felt completely alone.


	8. Chapter 8

I must've fallen asleep sometime during the car ride. I couldn't clearly remember anything past leaving our neighborhood. When my eyes finally opened, it felt like the inside of my eyelids were coated in sand. Instinctively, I wiped them away, only to feel the burn from the dry air around me. I was lying on a mattress that had been thrown onto the floor and covered with layers of quilts. My legs were bare and scratched against the sheet that covered me. My skin was dry and itched. I reached for the wound on my elbow and was stunned to see that it wasn't even tender anymore. In the dim light, I could see that it had completely healed, leaving no scab, or scar, or any evidence that it had ever happened.

Bellamy slouched against the wall on the other side of the room that was smaller than my bedroom. His hair was limp and dirty and the button down shirt he had on was wrinkled. His long fingers silently flipped the pages of a book, and he seemed unaware of the slightly pungent smell that filled the air.

I looked around at my surroundings and tried to figure out where we were. The walls were rough, like they were carved out of hard packed dirt. There was a small table and two chairs, the mattress and a small box that looked like a refrigerator. A shelf lined one wall and had numerous cans stacked up on it. A small electric heater hummed quietly in the far corner where Bellamy sat and a dimly lit bare bulb hung from the middle of the ceiling. There was a weird-looking water spout coming out of the wall that emptied into a large basin.

"Where are we?" My voice cracked because my throat was so dry.

Bellamy looked up from his book and moved over to sit on the edge of the mattress. He grabbed a bottle of water and held it up to my lips. "Drink this," he said.

I tried to grab the bottle and do it myself but it was difficult to sit up all of the way without a heavy wave of dizziness hitting me. I allowed him to help me and greedily took gulps of the water. When my thirst was finally quenched, I pulled away from him and repeated my question.

"We're on my grandmother's property in a bunker." He moved away from me carefully, returning to his spot against the wall. I could see he was too tall for the room and couldn't stand straight up without hitting his head on the ceiling.

"Why?"

"Because Dr. Griffin hasn't gotten word to us that it's safe to go outside yet." He sat against the wall again and ran his fingers through his hair. "I'm beginning to wonder if we'll ever get to leave."

I forced myself to sit up and groaned against the throbbing ache in my head. "How long was I asleep?"

He glanced at me briefly before turning his attention to the dirt on the floor. "Maybe around three weeks I think. I'm not sure exactly. It's hard to keep track down here. Gramma Rose used to come every day to bring us food, but the soldiers came a while ago and she hasn't been back since." He pointed toward the table. "I've tried to keep track, but my watch died so I don't know how accurate it is."

I could see a dozen hastily carved hash marks in the wall next to the table. "You've got to be kidding me?" I looked down at myself. How could I have been asleep for three whole weeks? This was unreal. I didn't smell bad. I ran my fingers through my hair and found it fairly clean and untangled. I wasn't sure if I should be grateful or embarrassed that someone, obviously Bellamy, had been taking care of me. There was a damp washcloth and a few hand towels hanging over the edge of the basin. I pulled my legs out from underneath the sheets and tried to stretch them out in front of me. Although I was dressed in nothing more than a tank top and underwear, I wasn't about to make a big deal about it. It was embarrassing enough without mentioning or questioning anything.

There was a small stack of clothes on the shelf next to us. I recognized some of it from my wardrobe. I grabbed a pair of jeans and pulled them over my cold legs. It was July, or maybe August, how could it possibly be so cold in here? Now that I wasn't under the blankets anymore, I was freezing cold and shivered.

As if he could read my mind, Bellamy reached over and turned up the heater. "We're underground, so it doesn't get warm down here." He grabbed a sweatshirt from a small pile of his clothes and handed it to me. "But I have figured out a few ways to get warm food."

I watched him as he opened a can of soup and set it on top of the heater. It seemed like it took forever, but he sat next to it, stirring it until it was warm before wrapping a towel around it and putting it on the table. He beckoned for me to sit down so I did. It was hard to swallow and my stomach was completely full by the time I'd eaten half it and I tried to push it away.

Bellamy refused to allow me to quit. "You haven't eaten a thing in weeks. You need your strength."

He was right about part of it; I did need strength and energy. I was exhausted and every muscle in my body ached and begged for rest. "You finish it, I'm full."

"I ate yesterday. I'm fine." He pushed the can a little closer to me. "Eat."

I was too tired to argue, so I forced more broth into my mouth. A few times, I gagged on the salty fluid as it worked its way into my stomach. With Bellamy's persistence, I managed to finish almost all of it. "Seriously, one more bite and I'll lose everything I already managed to get in there."

Bellamy relented and took the can. With two greedy gulps, he emptied the remaining contents into his mouth and tossed the can into a small bucket in the corner. "That's the emergency bathroom," he said pointing at the bucket. "If you can wait until it's dark outside, we can sneak up and go behind the barn."

"How do you know when it's dark?" We were in an underground cavern with no light I could see. I couldn't even see a door to get out anywhere.

Bellamy pointed at the ceiling and pulled the string to turn off the light. Over in the corner, I could see a tiny pinprick of light glowing in the pitch darkness. He turned the light back on. "We just have to make sure the light doesn't shine in and we'll be fine."

I couldn't take it all in even if I tried. All I wanted to do was get out of this dungeon, but I was too tired to think straight. It was hard to believe that I'd been asleep for weeks and all I wanted to do was take a nap. Without a word, I climbed back into the bed and laid my head against the pillow. I was shivering cold still, but when the heavy quilt covered my body, the chills quickly left. Bellamy returned to the book he was reading and the constant sound of page turning lulled me to sleep.

When I woke up again, I had no idea how much time had passed. Bellamy was still propped up against the wall. His arms were folded in front of himself and he shivered, lightly snoring. Guilt spread over me, knowing that I was warm and cozy underneath the blanket while he was trying to sleep, uncomfortable and cold.

"Bellamy?" I spoke quietly, not wanting to startle him.

His eyes shot open instantly. Turning his head in my direction, he moved toward me with a grimace on his face. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I said. "Come over here and lie down. There's enough room."

Whatever hesitation he had for sharing a bed with me was overruled by his desire to sleep. Not bothering to stand up, Bellamy crawled over to the mattress and laid on the edge, as far away from me as possible. It took less than five minutes for the snoring to come again. I tucked the blanket around him and returned my head to the pillow. I knew how he felt about physical contact, so I made sure to stay against the wall to give him as much room as possible.

For the next several days, we repeated the same patterns. Waking up in the morning, Bellamy would heat up a can of whatever provisions were left. While it was warming, he would pour a basin full of water and use the washcloth to clean himself up as much as possible. His face was raw from the burn he got using a straight blade to shave his face every morning, but he preferred the razor burn to the stubble. Once I'd eaten and he was finished cleaning up, he would dump the dirty water into a PVC pipe buried in the floor before pouring a clean basin for me. After hanging a sheet between the walls to give me privacy, he would disappear to the other side to eat while I cleaned myself up.

Each day we would wait for the sunlight to go away before trying to sneak up to go to the bathroom. Since we had very little to eat and a limited supply of drinking water, it wasn't too hard to wait. The first time we went out, Bellamy had to push my weakened body up the ladder and open door himself. It wasn't easy, but he did it without a complaint.

We came out of the bunker through a trap door in the floor at the back of the barn. There was a tractor sitting right above the door, but there was just enough room that we could crawl through. I couldn't see a thing in here, but Bellamy knew exactly where he was going and led me by the hand through the darkness toward a back door. Once I was standing under the stars for the first time in forever, I took a deep breath of fresh air and looked around.

Fields wrapped around us in every direction. Most of them had tall corn stalks that were turning brown. One of them looked like a grazing field for livestock, but I didn't see a single living creature. I could see a two story house in the near distance. There were lights on in every window but one and the house was practically surrounded by vehicles. Some of them were clearly marked police department, while others weren't marked at all.

Voices carried through the night, men reveling around a bon fire in the backyard. I couldn't hear any words but whatever they were doing sounded festive. I was afraid to leave the confines of the barn, but Bellamy tugged on my hand and pressed a finger to his lips. We quietly slipped around to the back of the barn and he led me into the corn field, stopping after we'd cleared the edge by a few rows.

Bellamy pointed up to the sky. "See that really bright star up there?" he whispered and waited for my gaze to follow his finger. "If you hear anyone coming, run in that direction and don't stop until you see a huge oak tree. Off to the left of that is an old shack. Hide there and I'll find you. Got it?" I nodded my head, my stomach turning somersaults in fear while I watched him walk farther into the field. When we'd both finished taking care of business, we snuck back into the barn the same way we'd come.

Each time we returned to the bunker, Bellamy would let me lay down to sleep and tried to prop himself up against the wall. I didn't let him though, and always made him come lay down next to me. After the first few nights, he didn't bother with the wall and just joined me on the mattress. We never talked about much, but some nights, he read his book out loud to me. I didn't understand half of it, but eventually, the story of the Hunchback of Notre Dame became my favorite form of entertainment.

Bellamy would groan every time I made him read in a ridiculous French accent, but he would comply and I would laugh. There were many moments when his voice would break while telling the tale. My eyes filled with tears as he read Hugo's words, describing the awful tortures and trial of Esmerelda. I didn't think I'd ever be able to breathe again when Bellamy got to the ending and they described Quasimodo joining his love in the catacombs. Even Bellamy sniffed back a few tears before putting the book down and lying against the pillows.

This time, instead of sleeping against the wall, I took Bellamy's arm and wrapped it around me when I lied against his chest. His entire body stiffened and he turned his head toward me. I didn't say a word, just pulled the quilt up so that we would be warm and settled in to listen to his heavy heartbeat. Eventually, he relaxed and got comfortable enough to go to sleep.

It was at least a week after I woke up from my drugged stupor when we snuck up to the back of the barn and noticed a lot of activity at Gramma Rose's house. Men were rushing out of the house and jumping into their vehicles. We froze in place, plastered against the rough wood of the side of the barn and watched the taillights disappear down the dusty lane.

"Is it safe to go to the house now?" I knew there was too much hope in my voice.

"Gramma Rose will come get us when it's time. There might still be soldiers in there," Bellamy warned. He motioned his finger toward the back of the house. "There's still two trucks back there that don't belong here."

Reluctantly, we went back into the bunker and hovered over the last two cans of food we had. Bellamy took a few bites of slimy peaches and handed me the can. I couldn't keep my eyes off of the last can that sat alone on the shelf in front of us.

Peas.

I hated peas.

I'd be damned if peas were going to be my last meal.

"Tell me the truth about something," I said as I handed the can back to him. "What did you really think of me when we first met? Did you think I was an irresponsible, impulsive brat?"

Bellamy was quiet for a few moments. I could see his mind working, searching for the right words to say. I knew his thoughts were mirroring exactly what I said.

"No," he said quietly. "I thought you were sad."

"Pitiful, huh?" I gave a harsh laugh and hated to have to agree with him. I had been living a pretty sad existence.

"No, not pitiful." He looked away from me as he handed the can back for me to finish the last bits of fruit. "I thought you couldn't find the right way to express your grief. I was afraid for you, that you were so close to breaking apart inside."

"And now?" I tried to be cavalier about the fact that I wasn't acknowledging whether or not he was correct.

"I was right, but wrong at the same time." He stood up as best as he could and tossed the can into the bucket that was nearly full. "I was right that you were close to breaking apart, but wrong that you ever would. You're one of the strongest people I've ever met Clarke Griffin."

He went over to the basin and ran it full of water. Turning his back to me, I could tell he was done with the conversation as he stripped down to his boxers and began cleaning himself up. I couldn't help but sit there stunned with a hard lump in my throat. After patting himself dry, he pulled on a cleaner pair of pants and then dunked his dirty clothes into the water. Rubbing a bar of soap against the denim, he scrubbed so hard his knuckles turned red. He repeated the same with the clothes that I'd left on the floor the previous night after I'd bathed as best as I could under the circumstances.

"It'll be nice when we can finally take a real bath, won't it?" I joined him at the basin and took the sudsy clothes from him to rinse under the faucet. Hanging them over the backs of the chairs and against the shelves, I tried really hard not to make him feel any more uncomfortable than he already was. It had to have taken a lot for him to admit that about me. I know it took a lot for me to hear it.

"I can't wait to have a mirror." He attempted a smile and slashed water on his face before lathering it up with the bar soap. Flipping open the straight razor, he made crooked lines across his cheek, down his chin and neck.

I went over and took the blade from his hand. I never asked permission, but Bellamy sat down on the chair and tilted his head up toward me. Closing his eyes, he sat as still as he could while I ran the blade across his face in steady, even strokes. I'd watched my father shave all the time when I was little, and seeing Bellamy do it every day lately reminded me of the pattern he always did. A few times, I thought I nicked him and pulled away quickly. When no blood popped up in the suds, I went back to work. Carefully and slowly, I made sure every stray whisker was gone before taking a wet washcloth and removing all traces of the soap from his skin. I looked over to the shelf and spied the duffel bag he'd packed a lifetime ago.

I grabbed my bottle of leave-in conditioner and squeezed a tiny drop out onto my hand. Carefully, I rubbed the lotion into his skin over all the places the razor had hit and soothed the burn that was beginning on his face. When I was finished and started to turn away, Bellamy grabbed my hands and held them tightly. His gaze bore a hole right through me and I had no idea what he was going to say. My heart raced, nervous to hear it, whatever _it_ was.

"It's your turn," he said softly.

I smiled at him. "Thanks, but I shaved my mustache off yesterday and I don't think it's grown back in yet."

Bellamy laughed away the awkwardness of the moment and released his hold on me. "That's not what I meant." He rinsed out the basin and refilled it for me, hanging the sheet again before moving to the other side of the tiny room.

I stripped completely down, knowing he wouldn't dare peak through the curtain, and got as cleaned up as a sponge bath would allow. For the first time in my life, I was actually grateful for the stupid, lame graduation gift my mother had gotten me. I didn't see a need to get all of the hair on my legs and armpits laser removed, but she assured me I would appreciate it someday. Someday just so happened to be right now, I thought as I washed off my smooth body. I grabbed clean underwear and a semi clean t-shirt off of the shelf and pulled them on before lowering the sheet. My hair was wet, tangled beyond help. I got the conditioner and my brush off the shelf and sat on the bed with my legs crossed in front of me.

Bellamy moved so that he was sitting behind me and took the bottle from my lap. He squirted some into his hands and gently began running it through my long hair. Taking the brush from my hand, he separated my hair into small sections and gently removed each tangle.

"You've had some practice at this," I observed, as he didn't pull my hair one time.

Bellamy chuckled lightly. "I've been my sister's favorite hair dresser ever since she was old enough to demand I learn how to braid it. It's kind of my thing," he laughed.

I closed my eyes and relished every movement, relaxing more with each stroke of the hairbrush. When it was smooth, I felt his long, nimble fingers pull it into three different sections and begin to wrap my hair around itself. When he was done, he pinched the end and reached over to the floor where his current book rested. A paperclip was being used to mark his place and he pulled it out. With his teeth, he straightened the thin piece of metal enough to wrap it around the ends of my hair. Once my braid was secure in place, he let it fall over my shoulder against my chest.

I reached up and touched it, silently marveling at how kind he was being to me even though I spent so much time being horrible to him.

"I'm sorry I was ever mean to you." I didn't think a simple apology was enough, but it was all I had to offer right then. "I shouldn't have called you names."

"I never really minded much." Bellamy shrugged and quickly changed the subject. "What do you want to read tonight?" He picked up two different books and held them up in front of me.

I had to choose between a story about Bonnie and Clyde and one called Tristan and Iseult. I knew who Bonnie and Clyde were and didn't want to hear a love story with a tragic ending. Unknowingly, I pointed at the other book and leaned back against him as he opened it and began reading.

When he reached the part where Tristan and Iseult drank a potion and fell madly in love with each other, I put my hand on the book and stopped him. "Please don't tell me they fall in love and end up dying alone in the end." I craned my head up and around so that I could see his face.

"Every good love story has some tragedy, doesn't it?" He put the book down, which told me that I was right, the story would end in a way that wasn't happy.

"You need to start reading Harlequin romances. I like happily ever after a lot better."

"Me too," he whispered.

I could hear his voice shake and his breathing got a little heavier. I twisted my body around so that I was facing him and locked eyes with him. I watched his gaze travel from my eyes to my mouth. Without thinking, I leaned forward and pressed my lips against his nervously.

For the briefest of moments, Bellamy's body stiffened before relaxing again and taking my face in his hands. He pulled me closer to him and returned the kiss. I could feel the softness of his skin and smell the freshness of the lotion I'd put on his face. He tasted salty, but there was a lingering sweetness from the fruit we'd eaten only a few hours before. It had been two years since I'd allowed myself to get close to anyone, and I melted in his arms.

Falling back onto the bed, Bellamy and I lost ourselves in each other. My hands traced the muscles on his arms as he peppered light kisses across my jaw and down my neck. I pressed my body against his, no longer needing a blanket to keep me warm.

My teeth grazed across his lower lip and he pulled away. Just a few inches from my face, I stared into his eyes. I could see a question forming in his eyes, but didn't have time to ask.

The overhead door creaked open and a beam of bright light filtered through the opening.

Bellamy rolled off of me quickly and grabbed a shotgun from underneath the mattress. He pulled me up and tucked me against the wall behind him. I wrapped my fingers through his empty belt loops and closed my eyes. Pressing my face into his back, I silently prayed that the soldiers hadn't found us.

"That's not a very polite hello." An old woman's voice scolded Bellamy from above. "Put that damn thing down before you hurt someone."

I stayed put, scared to death, but Bellamy lowered his arms and let the shotgun rest against the floor. I didn't realize until he stopped doing it that he was holding his breath. I could feel the tension leave his entire body. "Gramma Rose!"

I dared to peek around Bellamy's body and saw an old woman who couldn't have been more than five feet tall climbing down the ladder. No wonder the ceilings were so low, I thought. They were plenty high enough for this woman's tiny frame. Her completely white hair curled around her face and a wide smile greeted us. "Sorry it took so long. Those damn boys didn't want to leave. I guess I'm too good of a cook. Either that or they had a big crush on me?"

Bellamy laughed softly. "I'm sure that's it, Gramma." He put his hand on my arm and pulled me out from behind him.

"Well look who finally woke up. It's Sleeping Beauty in the flesh." The woman stood in front of us and looked me up and down like she was grading cattle at an auction.

"She's been awake for a while now," Bellamy informed her.

"Welcome to my home," Rose said. "How about you both come to the house and get a real meal and maybe a bath? You stink."

I could've run out of the bunker if Bellamy had let me. Instead, we quietly followed his grandmother to the house. Our feet were still bare, so there were several times that I stepped on a sharp rock and winced. Bellamy noticed, took my hand, and led me through the grassy lawn instead of the gravel driveway that his grandmother was walking on. When we got to the house I smelled the most heavenly thing on earth. I had no idea what it was, but there had to be meat, spices, and richness involved.

Rose led us into the kitchen and ordered us to wash our hands before sitting at the table. Bellamy showed me where the small guest bathroom was and we both scrubbed our hands under hot water for the first time in weeks. If it weren't for the audible growl that came from both of our stomachs, I think we could've both climbed into the sink and soaked for hours.

"Soup's on!" Rose yelled from the kitchen.

I followed Bellamy back through the hallway of the old house. The walls were covered with framed photos of his family. It wasn't hard to recognize him in the faces there, even the ones where he was a very young boy. I slowed, mesmerized by one photo in particular. Bellamy was a few years younger than he was now and stood behind a beautiful girl with his arms wrapped around her shoulders. They both wore smiles big enough to be featured in a toothpaste ad. I'd never seen him look so happy.

"That's Octavia." Bellamy answered the question I hadn't asked yet. "You'll meet her soon. Let's eat first though."

Sure enough, I was right about the food. Two places were set at the butcher-block table. Plates were filled with what looked like pot roast, potatoes, carrots and green beans. Thick gravy covered the meat. Tall glasses of cold milk sat next to each plate. Bellamy waited until both his grandmother and I both sat down before taking a seat himself.

I'd just picked up my fork and was about to dive in when I hear Bellamy clear his throat. Rose was looking at me with a stern expression. She and Bellamy were holding hands, and they each held their other toward me. Embarrassed, I set the fork down and took their hands. They both lowered their heads and Rose said a blessing over the meal.

"Come Lord Jesus, be our guest. Let these gifts to us be blessed. Amen." I felt her hand give mine a light squeeze before she let go and raised her head again.

Bellamy didn't waste any time digging in to his meal. I knew that he'd been rationing the cans for weeks. After I'd woken up, I noticed he only ate half as much as I did. I was sure it wasn't because he wasn't hungry. He was just making sure I had enough, even if it left him starving for satisfaction.

After several huge bites, he finally slowed down and started savoring his meal. Between bites, he questioned his grandmother about what was happening in the outside world. "Why were the soldiers here for so long?"

"I recon," Rose started. "They must've heard Dr. Tony came out here and that alerted them to us. For the first few days, they acted like they were searching the premises for illegal activity."

"Like what?" I chewed slowly. If this was the last real meal I ever got, I wanted to enjoy every single bite of it.

"You know, guns, drugs, food or water that the damn government didn't issue. Stuff like that." She grinned even bigger. "They never found a thing though."

For some reason, that didn't surprise me at all. I imagined this feisty old lady had plenty of secrets.

"Why did it take so long?" I could see the irritation in Bellamy's face, even if his words didn't show it. "I haven't seen you for two weeks."

"They were watching me too damn close. Even when I was sleeping, they made sure someone was right outside my door. It's only the past few days or so that they started to believe I'm a Jaha supporter."

"How'd you manage that?" Curiosity took over Bellamy's irritation.

"You give a boy enough pie, act like you'll miss them if they ever leave, and you'll have them eating out of your hand. Hell, they all call me Gramma now and promised to come for Thanksgiving."

"What was my father here for? Is he okay?"

Rose looked at me, her smile fading. "He came to drop off Octavia's medicine and some computer chip for Bellamy. It's in your desk now. He checked on you and said he'd come back as often as he could. He hasn't been back yet, but that doesn't shock me too much. He's a busy man, working directly for President Joe now. Officially though, he came to tell me the tragic news that my dearest grandson died in a horrible house fire."

"How is Octavia?" Bellamy seemed to have not heard that he was dead now.

"She washes herself now, but you still have to lead her by the hand to get her to the shower. She still don't talk to no one, but there's been a couple of mornings that I found books on the floor next to her bed. You haven't been here reading to her, so she must be getting up on her own to get them off the shelf."

"My father works for the President now? In Washington?" I didn't like the fact that the only parent who acted like they cared about me was so far away from me.

"Hell no," Rose laughed and took a loud sip of hot coffee. "Washington is unlivable. The blast took out thousands of people there in Virginia and the radiation poisoned just about everyone else. If it weren't for the fact that our great leader was away from the Capitol at the time, he'd probably be dead too. We sure lucked out, huh? All hail the king."

The china cup clattered against the saucer when she put it down on the table in front of her.

Bellamy continued to eat and asked her about the other nuclear plants that got hit.

"The boundaries of this country are different now I guess," Rose answered. The lines on her face seemed suddenly deeper and all joy left her face. "After the melt downs, the radiation clouds affected most of the country. Now that they say the clouds have gone away, we have to worry about the acid rain."

"Acid rain?" I knew I should've paid attention in science class. This was another moment that my mother could've said 'I told you so'.

"It could be poisoned from the fallout," Bellamy offered.

"Yeah," Rose snickered. "Or it could be that crazy son of a bitch doing a little cloud seeding."

"What's that?" I asked between bites.

Bellamy turned to me to answer before Rose had a chance to. "It's a way to cause rain. Planes go into the cloudbanks and release chemicals to cause a release of precipitation. China used to do it to alleviate drought stricken areas a long time ago. Scientists here thought it would be a useful tool, but too many environmentalists balked at the idea."

"So they are making it rain with poisonous chemicals?" I was trying really hard to wrap my mind around all of this. I still had a hard time imagining the hand of the most successful president in American history was behind all of this.

"It's a damn effective way to keep people inside and off the streets whenever they need to move. The boys here got the call earlier tonight and even helped me get the cow fed before they left."

Bellamy smiled. "You got them to feed the livestock?"

"We only have one cow left. She's for milk though, so don't go dreaming about a big steak any time soon. And yeah, they fed her. Hell, they've been doing all sorts of chores around here. You'd be surprised how much crap work you can get a grown man to do when a feeble old woman is helpless and can't do it on her own."

"You're too much." Bellamy grinned and shook his head.

"That whole 'having a dead grandson' thing was icing on the cake. I even got them to mow my grass since you're not alive to do it for me anymore."

Bellamy dropped his fork on the table and laughed outright. "Gramma Rose! I never mowed the lawn before! You always said it was your favorite chore and did it yourself."

The old woman winked at her grandson. "Feeble elders aren't a threat now are they?"

I sat back in my chair and rested a hand on my full belly. If I ate one more bite, I would explode. "So there's acid rain now. Anything else we need to know about?"

Rose shrugged and looked off into the distance. "Well the internet is down all over the country now. Cell phone service is caput. If you want to watch tv, there's only one channel that comes in now and it's government news. I can't tell you what the scenery looks like. I haven't left the farm. My grass is still green though. Sort of."

"So there's no way to get ahold of my mom or dad?" Or Murphy and Atom, I wanted to add but didn't. "Have they released the names of the people who died at the nuclear plants?"

"I got a satellite phone, but that's traceable, so it only gets used once, and we don't want to be here when my new best friends show up to confiscate it. And yeah, there was a list in the newspaper."

"You still get paper delivery?" Bellamy was visibly surprised as he piled a second helping of roast on his plate.

Rose raised an eyebrow. "Of course we do! It only comes once a week though. Our lovely president has to have a way to get his orders across without internet or telephones. We even get mail every now and then."

"Do you still have the paper?" My voice was quiet, almost timid. I wanted to see it, but I was scared to death that I would read names I knew.

Rose got up and went to the corner where a large stack of papers sat next to the stove. Shifting several to the side, she worked her way down the stack before finding the right one. She brought it over to me and took my plate to the sink.

I spread the pages out in front of me and ran my fingers across the headline as though I were a blind girl reading braille.

 _Quad Cities Blast Claims 873_

The list seemed like it was going to go on forever. They'd alphabetized the names, so I scanned down until I reached the M's. Slowing my mind, I closed my eyes and said a silent prayer.

Robert May

Belinda Messinger

Cynthia Milmer

Francis Monroe

Henry Murphy

Alexander Musser

Benjamin Nadanine

David Newton

I took a deep breath and read them again. There was no Atom Murphy on the list; no John Murphy either. Relieved, I closed the paper and noticed Bellamy was staring at me.

"Well?" He asked expectantly.

I shook my head. "They aren't on the list," I answered.

He looked relieved as well and pushed his plate away, apparently finally satisfied. "Gramma Rose, are you sure they aren't coming back tonight?"

"Yep," the woman answered, her chipper demeanor returning. "I overhead them talking and they were heading west to do a little preemptive population control, whatever that means."

"I'd like to take a shower and get some sleep if I may be excused." When Rose nodded her approval, Bellamy pushed himself away from the table and took his plate to the sink.

As he rinsed off the remnants of his meal, Rose took over and encouraged him to show me where the guest bedroom was. I thanked her for her hospitality and followed Bellamy out of the kitchen back toward the bathroom. Across the hallway was a closed door. He opened it and flipped on the light switch. A softly illuminated room came into view. There was a daybed filled with decorative pillows next to an overstuffed, wingback chair. A tall bookshelf dominated the entire wall of the small room and every available space was filled with books and knickknacks.

"There's extra pillows in the closet if you think you'll need them," he offered. "I'll go get our stuff and leave your bag in here while you take a shower."

The bathroom across the hallway only had a sink and toilet in it. "Where's the shower?"

"It's upstairs." He took me by the hand and led me out of the room.

We entered the living room and I had only a moment to look at the mixture of antiques and worn, comfortable furniture. An upright piano sat against the wall next to a large fireplace. The keyboard was covered and there was a stack of sheet music sitting on the bench. Throw rugs covered large areas of the wood floor. At the back of the room, a staircase led up to the bedrooms.

The soft carpet silenced our footsteps as we climbed the stairs together. A long hallway stretched the length of the house in front of us, ending in a closed doorway. There were three doors on the left side and two on the right. As we passed the closest doorway to the left, I could see a young girl lying in a bed. A nightlight glowed against her pale skin. Her eyes were closed and I assumed she was asleep.

The door to the right was wide open, revealing a large bedroom with a huge four poster bed positioned in front of the window. A sweet, floral smell emanated from the room and it reminded me of Rose. There was an ironing board set up with a small pile of folded clothes sitting on it, waiting to be pressed.

Bellamy gave my hand a light tug and pulled me farther down the hallway. The middle door on the left was closed. When Bellamy opened it, I saw a cramped bathroom. A pedestal sink was next to a tacky pink toilet. The claw foot tub sat directly underneath an open window. There was a metal bar circling it on the ceiling. A long shower curtain hung down around the tub, allowing the choice between bath and shower. Although I loved the thought of a long soak in a bubble bath, the need to get really clean was too great.

"Do you want me to bring your shampoo and stuff up here or should I leave it in your room?"

I went to the tub and turned on the tap. Holding my hand under the flow of water, I adjusted the knob until the water started heating up. "If you would bring it up here, that would be great."

He just nodded and backed out of the room, leaving me to undress in private. I had been standing under the steady spray of hot water forever it seemed before I heard him come back in.

"I've got your stuff," he said nervously.

I wrapped the shower curtain around my body and poked my head out. He handed me the bottles and I thanked him before he left. Pulling the paperclip out of my hair, I undid the braid and quickly lathered up my scalp to scrub all of the oil away. It took three attempts before I finally felt like my hair was clean enough. After drying off and rubbing lotion onto my dry and itchy skin, I pulled a clean pair of underwear on. It wasn't until I slipped into a pair of yoga shorts and a tank top that I realized I just sat in Gramma Rose's kitchen, eating a nice meal at her family's table, wearing nothing but a t-shirt and my underwear.

Shaking off the late embarrassment, I left the bathroom to find Bellamy and let him know it was his turn.

He was lying down in the middle of a queen-sized bed in the last room on the left. His feet were filthy and still bare. He wore only the jeans that he'd put on down in the bunker. One of his legs dangled over the edge of the bed and his arm rested across his eyes. I couldn't tell if he was asleep or not. I didn't hear the usual soft snore, but that didn't mean anything.

I walked into the room on my tiptoes and looked around. It was just as neat and tidy as his apartment was. Everything was in its place. Framed photos lined up on top of a clutter free dresser. His bed was perfectly made, even though he was lying on it. There was a reading chair in front of the window that faced the backyard. A footstool sat in front of it, its edges lined up perfectly with the frame of the chair. A neat and tidy stack of books rested on the small table next to the chair.

I lightly touched his leg and he moved his arm to look at me. "Your turn," I said.

He got up slowly and shuffled past me toward the bathroom. He was just as exhausted as I was, even though we had spent the past weeks doing absolutely nothing. I went over to his bed to lie down. I didn't even remember closing my eyes when I felt Bellamy quietly climb onto the bed.

My eyes flew open, startled from sleep. He jumped a bit, alarmed by my sudden movements. I slid off the bed and quietly walked down stairs to the guest room. Tossing all of the pillows onto the floor, I did my best to get comfortable. After a while, I grabbed a few of them and piled them behind my back so it would feel like I wasn't alone. It worked.

Sort of.

Not an hour had passed that I didn't wake up, tossing and turning, in the throes of a bad dream. Eventually, I gave up, frustrated that I was so weak when it came time to sleep. I wished there was a magic pill that kept the bad dreams away so that I could be in control twenty-four-seven. A glare of light filtering through the window made me want to squeeze my eyes shut and pray for rest.


	9. Chapter 9

Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I went into the bathroom and splashed cold water on my face. It felt good to do such a mundane activity. After the past week, I was beginning to wonder if I'd ever know what it was like to look in a mirror or flush a toilet again. My bag was still upstairs, so if I wanted to actually wash my face and put on clean clothes, I had to go retrieve it. In the kitchen, I could hear Rose rustling pots and pans. I could smell coffee and something sweet baking. My stomach growled in anticipation of another warm meal, so I decided to be quick about it. With quiet steps, I made my way down the hallway toward the stairs. Through the open doorway, I could see Octavia still lying in her bed. She had on a different nightgown than last night and her hair looked damp, like she'd taken a shower not long ago.

I took one step inside her room and looked around. All over the walls were the typical posters and signs that any teenage girl would hang up. Even though she was a little too old for boy-bands and schoolgirl crushes, I could see a little bit of personality in her choices. Neon pink splashed over black and white décor. There was a tall, skinny shelf near a desk. The top shelf was filled with trophies and ribbons. The bottom shelf had a neat row of Barbie dolls lined up; each one completely dressed including shoes and perfectly smoothed hair. I couldn't help but think of my own Barbie collection. By the time I was thirteen, none of them had long hair anymore and what little bit they had left was matted like a disgusting mouse nest. I doubted I had more than three shoes left, let alone two-dozen matching pairs. In between, there was a plethora of books. My eyes scanned the titles and saw that Octavia must've been interested in vampires. I made a mental note of the Golden Lily series and thought it might be interesting to see if I could get Bellamy to read those instead of classic French literature.

I walked over to the bed and stood over the girl. She was pretty with the same color of brown hair as Bellamy. She had Finn's blue eyes, but the strong jawline and prominent cheekbones was a trait all three siblings shared. Her stare penetrated the wall behind me as she lay with her hands twisted together, tucked under her face.

"I think breakfast is almost ready," I said. She didn't seem to notice I was speaking. If she did, she didn't care. "Wanna come down to eat? I can help you with the stairs if you need?"

The only reply Octavia gave was to curl her legs up a little closer to her chest so that she was almost in fetal position. Her eyes closed and she looked like a child who was sleeping peacefully.

Not knowing what else to do, I left the room and headed downstairs, forgetting all about my bag and clothes. Just as I'd assumed, Rose was bustling around in the kitchen. A stained apron covered her yellow polyester pants. She wore a matching shirt that made her blue eyes sparkle like a clear summer sky. She smiled at me and grabbed a chipped mug from the cabinet. Setting it on the table, she poured it full of hot coffee.

"Did you sleep well?" Rose asked. "I take it the guest bedroom was comfortable."

I nodded and sat down, wrapping my fingers around the mug. Maybe if I didn't answer her, she'd let it go and I wouldn't have to explain why I looked exhausted. Rose went over to the stove and dished a steaming hot cinnamon roll onto a plate. Instead of giving it to me and going back to whatever work she was doing, the woman sat down across from me and tapped her fingers on the table.

"I don't know what happened down there in that bunker, but you need to remember this isn't a world you can bring kids into right now. I expect you're being careful?" Her eyebrow arched, her eyes boring into me and demanding an answer.

I wanted to crawl under the table and disappear, but my defenses kicked in. If I'd had a mouthful of bubble gum, I would've replied by popping a huge bubble. "And that's your business how?"

"Look here, Missy. Anything that makes another mouth for me to have to feed is most certainly my business. Just keep in mind, every time you do something that affects my kids, you're bringing me into it."

"Oh please," I retorted, shoving the plate toward the middle of the table. My appetite was completely gone. "In case you haven't noticed, Bellamy is a grown man who can make his own decisions without some little old white haired woman dictating his every move. I don't think it was _you_ that was locked in a damn dungeon for the past month. Did you ever stop to think what affect that little adventure had on him?"

She picked a piece of pastry off the plate and popped into her mouth. Not once did she back down from my comments. "I'd say the effect was his life and the fact that he's still living it. It's a whole lot better to be hungry and uncomfortable than dead, don't you think?"

I rolled my eyes and drank the coffee.

"I'm just saying, you aren't the only two people left in the world. I understand how you might have become _close_ while you were down there, but Bell doesn't have much experience with the girls. Once this is all over and you go away to live your little carefree life, make sure you don't leave behind a wounded heart." She smiled again, a creepy way of emphasizing her point.

"I'm not sure how babies were made back in your day, but the closest we've come to sleeping together is snoring. I'm not sure that would cause procreation."

Rose stood with her hand on her hip, chewing on the inside of her cheek. I could see exactly where Bellamy got that habit. "I'm old, not blind, and I noticed how flustered you both were when you came out of that barn last night."

I almost choked on my coffee. "I think excited was a better word."

"You're only making my point for me," Rose snickered.

"Excited for a meal and a real bath!" I was starting to blush.

She clicked her tongue against her teeth. "Mmhmm… You know, there's nothing wrong with my grandson. He's a pretty good catch you know."

"Gramma Rose!" I heard Bellamy's shocked voice in the doorway behind me.

Rose looked up at her grandson and a guilty blush crept over her features. The smile returned and she got up immediately to prepare a plate for him. She sat it down on the table next to me and told him to sit down and eat.

He poured himself some coffee and refilled my mug before following her orders. After a few bites in awkward silence, he cleared his throat and looked up at his grandmother. "I think we should set up some ground rules if we're all going to be living here for an indefinite amount of time."

Rose nodded in agreement. "Yes, we need shower schedules and of course chores should be divided evenly."

He looked at me before turning back to her. "That's not what I meant. I don't want you making Clarke uncomfortable again. And no talk about match making and future generations."

I smiled inside, but kept my face straight. I thought it was funny how he blushed when he mentioned the whole sex thing without actually using the words.

Rose shrugged her shoulders but didn't miss a beat. "When you take out the trash, make sure you put it in the burn bin over behind Grampa's work shed and burn it. The yard doesn't need much right now, but when the leaves start falling, I don't want them sitting there killing my grass." She turned toward me. "You can help with the dusting and vacuuming. I'll do all of the cooking and kitchen work, but I think Bellamy should teach you how to do Octavia's physical therapy. We can split that job equally."

"Have you heard from Finn lately?" Bellamy got up and helped himself to another roll. My appetite was returning, so I pulled my plate back in front of me and started picking at it.

Rose shook her head. "He hasn't been here since before all this started. I asked about him when the boys were here and one of them called his supervisor. They said he's working up near Chicago right now."

"At least he's okay," Bellamy conceded. "What about Dad? Has he tried to contact us at all?"

Rose snickered. "I'm sure he's so far up to his elbows in dinosaur guts he doesn't even know what's going on in the real world."

I shot a confused look to Bellamy. He informed me that his father was a paleontologist working in Siberia on a new find. He'd been there ever since the accident and they only hear from him once a month if they're lucky.

Rose took the empty plates and started washing them. "You both need to make sure all of your stuff is picked up and put away at all times. No dirty shoes by the door, no beds unmade, and no crap lying around."

"If someone shows up without warning, we need to be able to hide without leaving evidence behind that we're here," Bellamy explained.

I had a lot to learn about living in a paranoid house I guessed. I wondered if Bellamy stashed the extra shampoo and conditioner that I'd used last night. I couldn't think of anything else that might give away my presence here, but I promised myself that I would do my best to stay on top of things.

After breakfast was cleaned up, I went upstairs to double check that all of my stuff was hidden away. Bellamy had already made his bed and straightened the pillows so that it looked like no one was here recently. I didn't see my bag anywhere. After Bellamy came upstairs, I asked him where it was.

"I put it in Octavia's room. I didn't think it would be very believable that I had a bunch of size four skinny jeans in my closet," he smiled. "All of your clothes are in the bottom drawer of her tall dresser. I think most of her stuff would fit you though, so feel free to borrow anything you want."

"I'm a size six, thanks." I playfully punched his arm. "What should we do now?"

"Have you ever shot a gun?"

My eyes grew huge. Before last night, I'd never even been close to a gun. Had I known that I was sleeping on top of one the whole time, I probably would've freaked out a little bit. I shook my head and Bellamy grinned.

"Well I'd say the first thing we're going to do is teach you how to defend yourself. I don't think your smart mouth will protect you very long." I glared at him but he just stared back with a raised eyebrow. "Are you telling me that's not your go-to self-defense mechanism?"

I rolled my eyes instead of admitting he was right. I was a little surprised at how easy it seemed for him to talk to me so casually. "Do I really have to shoot a gun? Can it be a little pistol or something?"

"No way, we'd run out of ammo too quick on those. Around here, we learn on shotguns so we can reload the shells."

He walked out of the room and I followed him all of the way past the garage and stopped at an old shed halfway between it and the bunker barn. The door creaked open and dust flew in the rays of sunshine that filtered in. I could see all of the way to the back wall of the little shack that was smaller than my living room. A wooden bench lined the back wall and tools hung on rusty nails that had been pounded into the wall wherever something else would fit. There was a bunch of straw scattered across the creaky wooden floorboards. In the dark corner of the room, hiding under the bench, a tiny pair of glowing eyes watched us enter.

I moved back a step, startled by the sudden hissing sound. Bellamy clicked his tongue and crouched to the ground, lightly clapping his hands together. Eventually, a large, shaggy, long-haired tabby cat emerged from his hiding spot and jumped into Bellamy's arms. "This is Killer," he said, rubbing the cat's head. "He's pretty mean to the rest of the barn cats around here, but when you get him alone, he's just a big kitten."

I didn't feel the need to approach the animal to find out for myself. It's not that I disliked cats, I just didn't see a real use for them. Maybe out here, they helped keep the rodent population down or something, but they never served a real purpose in my life before.

Bellamy loved on the cat for a few minutes before putting him down and shooing him out the door. With his foot, he cleared the straw away from a square section of the floor and reached down to open a latch. I couldn't see anything more than a dark hole and had absolutely no desire to climb into it. I'd spent enough time underground to last the rest of my life.

I watched Bellamy disappear through the opening and strongly considered going back to the house and leaving him here by himself. Whatever was down there didn't really require my presence, did it?

I could see a bright light flicker to life and peered over the edge. A metal ladder was attached to a wooden wall. The floors were made of cement, not dirt. Maybe this one wouldn't be as bad as the one we'd been living in. I breathed in deeply and took my first step down into the pit. My bare toes curled around the bar and with each step, the cold metal seeped into my bones a little farther. By the time my feet hit the cement floor, I was shivering.

"You could've warned me that it was this cold down here," I complained. "I could've gotten dressed first."

"Sorry," Bellamy apologized. "I didn't even think about it." He was wearing jeans and a t-shirt, but his feet were bare too. It didn't seem to faze him a bit. He pulled his shirt off and handed it to me. I gratefully pulled it on over my tank top. It was still warm from his body heat and I felt myself beginning to thaw out enough to take in my surroundings.

The room was finished, with wood paneled walls and ceiling. Several fluorescent lights hung at the tops of the walls, illuminating every corner of the room. A wooden workbench ran the entire length of the back wall. A huge map was drawn on yellowing butcher paper and tacked up on the wall above it. Sitting in the middle of the bench was an antique looking machine that had black dust all over it. Crates of empty bullet casings sat on the floor and there were dozens of boxes at the end of the table that were lined up neatly. I assumed they were filled with ammunition that would fit in the numerous weapons that leaned up against the wall and hung on gun racks.

Right after the amusement park massacre, there was a huge push to unarm the general population. I remembered reading newspaper articles about the thousands of firearms that the government confiscated from homeowners. I knew that the terrorists that killed all of those people stole the guns from private homes, so I was a bit relieved to know that the only people who would have access were the ones trained to protect us.

"I thought these all had to be turned in," I said, my eyes flirting from one weapon to the next.

Bellamy shook his head. "Not these. They only took the registered ones. These were considered collectables back in the day so you didn't have to register them when you bought them. The government had no way of knowing they were here. My Grampa repaired them to make sure they were in good working order just in case we needed them."

"Why would you need guns?" I couldn't wrap my mind around a need for this huge cache of weapons unless his grandfather was planning some sort of terrorist act of his own or something.

Bellamy considered my question carefully before answering. "Do you know who George Mason was?" I shook my head and he explained. "He was the co-author of the Second Amendment of the United States Constitution. In 1788, he said 'To disarm the people is the best and most effectual way to enslave them'. I might have been too young to really know what was happening, but I remember the day they came to confiscate my grandfather's weapons. That man led a good life. He fought in the military and never got so much as a traffic ticket. He even offered a few unregistered weapons as an act of good faith. When he explained that he was a hunter and the yearly deer kills provided our family with food, he begged for them to let him keep at least one rifle. I hid behind the couch and watched the policeman slam his fist into Grampa Fred's face, accusing him of resisting a peace officer. They took him away in handcuffs. The charges were dropped, but I'll never forget that day."

I was stunned. I'd never met anyone who didn't mind giving up his or her weapons. It was a shock to hear the policemen were violent with an old man. "What happened to him, your Grampa?" All I knew was that he wasn't around anymore.

"Cancer. It took him seven years ago." Bellamy busied himself with the machine. He filled the hull with little beads, poured the black powder into a small opening, and pushed down a lever that packed the shell. He then capped it with a tiny copper disk. I watched over his shoulder, taking mental notes as he went. I looked up at the map on the wall.

The word Maverick was scrawled across the top of it in bold black ink. The roads were similar to the layout of their town, but many of the existing buildings weren't represented. There were several red X's marking several of the areas, including the neighborhood where I lived. A large green circle was drawn around the skate park and one of the warehouse buildings near Bellamy's apartment. Another one marked an area near Bellamy's farm.

"What's all this?" I pointed toward the map with one hand while my other was busy handing him empty shells.

"A project my mother was working on right before she died." He tapped one of the red X's. "These are the homes of government employees. And these," he indicated the three green circles, "are secret parts of the underground railroad tunnels."

My eyes traced the path of my neighborhood carefully. One of the X's was right over the spot where my house should be. "We don't work for the government." I hated to correct his dead mother, but her map wasn't very accurate.

"Dr. Griffin did, remember? A long time ago anyway. All of his initial work on the syndrome was government backed. And he's back in good graces with President Jaha now, so it's right."

My body gave a visible shiver and I rubbed my hands against my arms roughly. Bellamy finished the batch he was working on and shoved his pockets full of bullets. Grabbing two shotguns off the wall, he led the way back up the ladder and back into the shed. After I pulled myself out of the hole, he wiped the dirt back in swirls and concealed the opening with straw.

The hot summer sun beat down on us as we walked back toward the house. "I'll show you how to use these after lunch. It's time for Octavia's therapy right now though."

He sat the guns down on the kitchen table as we walked through the house. Rose was sitting in the living room sewing patches together to make a quilt. "She already had her shower this morning, so you can skip that step."

"Thank you," Bellamy replied, taking the stairs two at a time.

Octavia was still in the exact same spot as she was this morning. I lurked near the doorway but Bellamy waltzed right in and sat on the edge of her bed. She turned her head and faced him and I thought I saw the trace of a smile curve across her lips. Her tiny hand reached up and touched his eye.

Bellamy smiled back. "I'm trying the contacts, but I hate them. I still have my glasses, don't worry."

She frowned, silently voicing her displeasure.

He beckoned me to come over and I stood next to him, not knowing what I was supposed to be doing. "This is my friend Clarke." Bellamy turned and took a firm hold of his sister's ankle while he talked. "She is Dr. Tony's daughter. You remember him, don't you? She's going to be helping around the house for a while, so don't be surprised if you see a lot of her." He gently pressed his sister's leg up, bending at the knee and stretching her muscles several times in a row. "I thought you wouldn't mind if she borrowed a drawer in here for a while."

Octavia's eyes shot toward me and I tried my best to give her a nice smile. In truth, I was horrified to be here with a girl who couldn't communicate. Something about the way she looked at me said so much more than words could ever do.

There was more in her head than I'd thought there would be. I saw her react to every single thing her brother said or did. If you asked me, I kind of suspected she wasn't as sick as everyone thought. Either way, it looked like she wouldn't mind if I took my stuff out of her room immediately, please-and-thank-you.

Bellamy continued stretching her limbs, switching to the other leg and then moving on to her arms. The whole time, he talked to her. Idle banter seemed to come easy for him and the contrast reminded me of how little he spoke to me when we first met. I stayed quiet and out of the way the whole time Bellamy performed the physical therapy exercises on his sister. Even when he forced her to a sitting position so that he could massage the muscles in her back, she sat limply and didn't offer help or resistance. Even though I was off to the side, she never took her eyes off of me once.

When he was finished, he made sure she looked comfortable and led me out of the room. "We do that twice a day. In the morning, she gets a shower and before bed, we let her soak in the Jacuzzi tub for a little bit. It keeps her muscles from atrophying and her blood flow good."

I stopped in the middle of the stairs and watched him walk away. When he noticed I wasn't following him anymore, he stopped at the bottom and looked back at me. "Something wrong?"

"Did you do that to me the whole time I was out; the whole bathing and physical therapy stuff?" I really hated the thought of being as helpless as Octavia, and even more, I hated the fact that he'd been so… _personal_.

"Can you walk right now?" His eyebrows raised and it looked like he was biting the inside of his cheek. When I rolled my eyes and nodded an obvious yes, he turned and walked away. "You're welcome."

I flopped down on the couch across from Rose. She looked up and smiled, but continued her sewing. "Learn anything useful?" Her eyes were on me, but the needle in her hand still worked its way in and out of the fabric.

"I guess," I grumbled. "I suppose I'm just waiting for something exciting to happen."

"Oh it already is," Rose said and cryptically pointed toward the front window.

I turned my body and looked in the direction she was indicating and saw that the white puffy clouds were still bouncing in the blue sky, but rain was falling in puddles on the ground. "What the…" I jumped up and went to the front door.

"You might not want to go out there," Rose warned.

Maybe I didn't want to listen to her, or just wanted to display my independence or defiance. Whatever it was, I ignored her and walked onto the front porch. The air around me had a sickly sweet smell to it. The humidity was thick and for the briefest of moments, it was hard to catch my breath. I could hear the fat drops splash against each other before they even hit the ground. Under the cover of the porch, I didn't get wet, but when the breeze blew, I felt a gentle spray of water spread over my legs. I could hear the distant rumbling of an airplane engine and looked up to find the vapor trail. Seeing nothing, I took a few steps toward the front edge of the porch and tried again. This time, the water splashing on my legs left tiny pink marks on my skin. It itched like I'd just walked through a patch of poison ivy.

"Holy crap!" I exclaimed, rushing back inside the house. Rubbing my legs offered no relief. If anything, it spread the instant rash and made it worse.

"I warned you," Rose taunted from her spot. I glared at her, but she was concentrating on the squares in her lap.

I silently cussed her out and ran into the guest bathroom. Cold water flowed from the tap and I made a huge mess splashing it onto my legs. It cooled the burn instantly, but the welts didn't disappear. I soaked a few towels and sat on the floor, pressing them against my skin.

"She might not have the kindest approach, but Gramma Rose usually knows what she's talking about." Bellamy leaned in the open doorway and looked down at me.

"This can't be real." I sighed and leaned my head against the wall. "This is all just impossible."

Bellamy took a few steps toward me and opened the medicine cabinet. I opened my eyes to see what he was doing and watched him pull out a jar of green salve. Crouching down next to me, he removed the towel and opened the jar. He scooped out a glob that he dropped onto my lower leg. It was so cold, it was almost as painful as the burn. I hissed and bit my lip while he spread the minty gunk across my bare skin, one leg and then the next.

When he was finished, he washed his hands and reached down to give me a hand up. I accepted his help and grumpily went upstairs to get a pair of pants.

Octavia was sitting up in her bed when I came into her room. There was a book lying on her lap, opened to a colorful page in the middle. Her eyes widened when she saw me, but that was her only reaction. Out of sheer curiosity, I went close enough to see what book she was reading. It was one of those thick compilation books that contained numerous fairy tales. The page she was paused on was the middle of the story of the Lion and the Mouse.

"My dad used to read that one to me when I was a kid," I said.

"My mother read it every night," Octavia whispered.

I was stunned to hear her voice and thought for a minute I should run and tell her brother she was talking. Instead, I pulled on the pants over my shorts and sat down on the bed next to her to lace up my high top tennis shoes. "I always thought it was silly that the mouse helped the lion. Every time Dad would read it, I expected it to change, that the lion would eat him. But that never happened."

Octavia's lips curled into a crooked smile. There was a new light dancing in her eyes. "Me too. I always wondered what happened after the story was over. Did they remain friends forever, or did the lion eventually get hungry?"

I laughed. "I bet that mouse made a fine meal."

"Maybe the mouse ate the lion? Even a tiny, helpless creature can rise up and beat the big guys if they need to."

"Like you?" I wiggled my eyebrows at her. "You planning some big, sudden move that's gonna save the day?"

"Aren't you?" She reached up and touched one of the pink streaks in my hair. "I like this. I couldn't ever get away with something like this."

I grinned. "Who says?" Looking around the room, my eyes settled on the top of her dresser where a small tote box sat with a fine layer of dust covering it. I got up and retrieved it, opening the lid to find a vast array of make-up inside. Rifling through the various tubes and compacts, I finally found what I was looking for and held it up for her to see.

Hot pink lipstick.

If it were possible for her grin to get any bigger, it just did. I sat back down and brushed all of the tangles out of her hair before rubbing the waxy substance on chunks of her brown hair. After I'd done it to a half dozen sections, I sat back to admire my work and smiled. The tote had a small mirror in the lid and I held it up for her to see.

Octavia turned her head in different angles so that she could see my craftsmanship. "Not bad," she said cockily. "It's been a long time since I've smelled lipstick. It's kind of gross, isn't it?"

"I've always thought it smelled like the back of an old lady's closet," I giggled with her. She picked up some eye shadow and with a shaky hand, smeared some on her eyelids.

Octavia was making more of a mess than anything, so I took the tiny sponge applicator from her and wiped away the excess purple powder from her cheekbones. "This is the wrong color for you," I said as I put it away. Toward the bottom was a set of pink and brown powders. I carefully applied all four colors to her eyelids, being careful not to smear it. After I'd added a little eyeliner, mascara and blush, I handed the mirror back to her along with a tube of lip gloss.

"A lady is never ready for the day without her lipstick," she laughed. "Gramma Rose used to say that all the time."

"So what's with the silent coma patient act?" I knew it wasn't my place to ask, but I couldn't resist. "Are you planning to pretend like you just got better all of the sudden?"

"What's the deal with you and my brother? Are you his girlfriend?"

I shook my head quickly. "Ugh, no. We worked together in my dad's lab before the whole world went to hell. He took care of me after I accidentally drank some infected water and is just helping me hide." I didn't feel the need to mention the kisses we'd shared, but I blushed thinking about it.

"He told me all about you. I'm sure he didn't think I even understood what he was saying, but I heard it all."

My curiosity was peaked again. "Oh? Care to enlighten me?"

The smile faded from her face. "He said you were impossible and annoying."

My heart sank. So much for that, I thought.

"And then it started to change. The tone of his voice was different when he complained about your bubblegum. I think he was just trying to convince himself that he didn't like you."

I screwed up my face. "I enjoy popping bubbles. It's kind of a bad habit."

"If you ask me, I think his high school crush on you kind of returned." She winked at me, her long dark eyelashes sweeping the tops of her cheekbones.

"What? I didn't even know him in high school!"

"Yeah, well everyone knew you. And they all noticed. Some of my friends at church talked about you, even though we all graduated before you even learned how to drive. All the guys gave Noah such a hard time for being the guy who finally stole your heart."

My entire body stiffened. "You knew Noah?"

Octavia nodded with a smile as if it were common knowledge. "He used to hang out with our church group every week. He and Bell were pretty tight until they graduated from junior high."

I shook my head. I knew Noah like no one else ever did. Better than his own parents even. There wasn't a single time he even mentioned knowing Bellamy. Or going to church. "You must be mistaken."

Octavia's face fell again. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you."

I quickly gathered up all of the makeup and put the tote back on the dresser. "You didn't. No worries." When I turned around, I had the fakest smile on earth plastered to my face. "Ready to go downstairs for lunch?"

"Negative," Octavia replied. She reached over and grabbed a box of tissues off the nightstand. She swiped at her eyes, smearing the colors together as she rubbed it all off. "Can you do me a favor?"

I nodded and shrugged me shoulders. "I won't make you actually do the therapy crap if you promise not to tell anyone I talked to you."

"Why? Don't you realize how sick Bellamy was, worrying about being here to take care of you? Why would you even talk to me at all if you didn't want them to know?"

Octavia shrugged. "You're the first girl to come up here since all this happened. That I remember anyway. And for the record, I've only been able to move for the past month or so."

I leaned against the bed frame, my arms crossed in front of my body. "You know, it would be a big weight off Bellamy's shoulders if he knew you were getting better."

"I'll tell him, just not yet, okay? Please?" Her big eyes were pleading.

I wasn't comfortable agreeing to keep secrets that huge from Bellamy, but it wasn't my place to decide on Octavia's behalf. Besides, he'd had plenty of opportunities to tell me about Noah, and he never did. It wasn't like I owed him any deep honesty. I nodded before going back downstairs.

Rose was still stitching away and I could hear Bellamy making noises in the kitchen. I was just about to go in and see what he was doing when he appeared with a tray filled with sandwiches and a pitcher of lemonade.

I sat on the couch again and quietly waited while he handed out lunch to first his grandmother and then me. I was so tired of sitting around this house, keeping secrets and waiting for something bad to happen. It had only been a few days, but I was stir crazy already. I bit into the chicken sandwich with a hunger that I didn't know I had. After swallowing a few bites, I finally shifted my body so that I was facing Bellamy.

"So you want to tell me about this crazy little life you lead?"

"Excuse me?" Rose sat up straight as if someone just inserted a metal rod into her spine.

"No really." I ignored her and continued. "I mean, you've got all of these weird little bunkers, maps with Underground Railroad stops, enough guns to arm a small gang, and a nut-bag old woman who doesn't think it's the right thing to inform me that I'll get burned if I go outside. I think if I'm going to live in the middle of it all, I should know what inspired you all to be so prepared. And I swear to God, I want documentable facts, not internet conspiracy crap."

Bellamy's jaw dropped at the harsh tones I was using. I could see his face crumble in confusion and he looked at his grandmother. She just glared at me with her bright red lips pursed.

"It was my mother's planning," Bellamy started.

"Bellamy!" Rose yelled at him, trying to stop him from speaking.

"She's not the enemy, Gramma Rose." Bellamy sighed and ran his hands through his hair. It had grown another inch since everything happened, and the soft waves were beginning to curl more at the ends.

"If you don't think I should know anything, I could find my own way back into town." I dropped the rest of my sandwich on the tray and stood up. Bellamy reached out and grabbed my arm as I walked by, stopping me from heading out the front door.

"You can't go outside yet, Clarke," he pleaded. "The rain…"

"Yeah? I'd rather be burned than lied to." Once the words were out, there was no getting them back.

His grip on my arm loosened and I pulled away from him sharply. It wasn't his mother's plans that I wanted to hear about. I wanted to know every little scrap of knowledge he had about Noah. About Noah's life before I was in it. About his life while I _was_ in it. When Bellamy didn't speak right away, I stomped back up the stairs. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Octavia laying like a zombie again.

Another lie, I thought with disgust as I passed her room and headed straight for Bellamy's. I slammed the door behind me and went straight for his desk. Sifting through the drawers, I didn't know what I was looking for, but the stacks of used notebooks wasn't it. Notes from his mother, cards from his father, even a dried rose attached to a memorial card from his grandfather's funeral didn't catch my attention long enough to do anything but push them aside. In the bottom drawer, my fingers found what felt like a photo album.

I pulled it out of the drawer and sat on the edge of Bellamy's bed. Taking a deep breath, I gathered up every ounce of bravery in my soul and opened the scrapbook. Inside, I found yellowed newspaper articles and various photographs that seemed to chronicle Bellamy's life. It began with a clipping from the local paper announcing his birth along with a little plastic bracelet and a photo of a pinched face newborn baby screeching into the camera. As I turned the pages, I saw Bellamy growing up, every monumental moment documented carefully in a woman's delicate handwriting.

Family photos and candid shots of holidays and events peppered the pages. I watched his progress in a tae kwon do program all the way up to his red belt. School photos accompanied report cards, each one marked with perfect scores. Teachers commented on how smart and well-mannered he was. A few times, there were notations that the student lacked group participation and seemed all too content to work on his own. By the time he'd reached the fourth grade, a familiar face joined the photos.

Noah.

I'd recognize the toothless grin anywhere. Even in the second grade, Noah had the same angular features, cropped blonde hair, and bright blue eyes. From there until high school, Noah was in every single candid photo. One of them was captioned:

 _Brothers by choice, not blood_

I felt a hot tear fall down my face as my fingers gently touched the face of the boy I loved with all my heart. I was so engulfed by my own grief, I didn't notice the door open.

I didn't hear the footsteps.

I didn't feel the bed shift when Bellamy sat down next to me.

His fingers twisted together in his lap and he studied the pattern in the rug under his feet. "I lost a lot that day, too." His voice was softer than normal.

"Why didn't you ever tell me you knew him like this?" I was so sad that I almost forgot how angry I was. Even when I remembered, I couldn't express it.

"Probably for the same reasons you never told me anything about him either." He took the book from my lap and turned to the last page. Someone had affixed a newspaper article to the paper with scotch tape. I remembered the day I read it for the first time like it was yesterday. I didn't need to read it to know that it gave a rather impartial version of the car wreck that killed him.

"I miss him," I whispered. The tears burned my eyes, my throat got tight and I a wave of nausea shivered through me.

Bellamy closed the book and put it on the side table. "What do you want to know?"

I stifled a laugh. There wasn't anything he could say that would bring Noah back, so what was the point in talking about it? "I want to know why you were all so prepared for this to happen."

Bellamy sat up a bit straighter, but stayed perched right next to me. "Years before President Jaha was elected, he was the leader of a militia group that was so huge, so organized, that the members were constantly being watched by the Homeland Security and every law enforcement agency in the country. They weren't racist, like the white supremacists. They weren't religious, like the Waco cult. They were simply against government interference and control. Jaha welcomed anyone into his group without question. The only thing they had to agree to was a lifetime membership and most of them went so far to prove their loyalty that they even signed over bank accounts and property deeds to him. It didn't take long before his wealth got so immense and the IRS started investigating him as well.

In less than a decade, his group numbers grew into the thousands. He began traveling all over the country and spread his message of distrust and freedom to anyone that would listen. Eventually, his group got so big, they broke up into factions. One of them was headquartered near Chicago and my mother went to listen to what they had to say. When she got home, she went on and on about how great of a speaker Theo Jaha was and how wonderful his ideas were. She hung on to his every word as though it were gospel. She tried to get my father to go to the meetings, but he refused and said politics just weren't his thing.

Anyway, after a few meetings, her attitude shifted. She started to think that Jaha was a great leader, but he was leading the people down the wrong path. She saw a lot of his policies that would seem to help the people, but eventually would end up being purely beneficial for him. It wasn't until he began to run for President that she got really scared. I remember watching him on TV, giving speeches and interviews. He insisted everyone call him Theo, even after he won the election. He said he was no better than anyone else and didn't deserve a special title. People bought into his game so easily.

When he brought home the troops from the Middle East, the public all praised him. Everyone was tired of supporting war efforts in other countries and not seeing their sons and daughters for years at a time. Mom said the soldiers came back to the US, but never really came back home. He brought them back just to build his own private army, she thought."

"That's a little paranoid, isn't it?"

Bellamy shrugged again. "My cousin was stationed in Afghanistan. He was one of the last ones brought home. After a quick three-hour visit on Christmas day, he had to go back to the base for more training. He didn't get leave anymore and when his commission ended, he re-enlisted even though every letter he'd sent home when he was overseas included a countdown for when he would be a civilian again. Whenever my mother talked to him, he had nothing but praises for the military, but especially the president. She got so worried about what was going on that she joined the group, just so that she would know what was happening first hand."

"So she signed over all the bank accounts and stuff?"

Bellamy nodded. "She had to, otherwise they wouldn't have let her in. Thankfully, this house wasn't hers to give away, so we still had a place to live. For almost three years, she went to every meeting and took notes. A few times, she even went out with some of the other volunteers and helped fundraise for his campaign. When he was finally elected to office, she quit going. I didn't think anyone would ever question her absence, and no one did. I never saw or heard from any of the radical Jaha supporters for years after that. It wasn't until a little more than two years ago that it was ever brought up again."

"What happened?" I was exhausted from crying, but too interested in the story to let him stop now.

He wiped a stray tear from my cheek with his thumb and let his hand rest against my skin for just a moment before finishing the tale.

"Two summers ago, Noah's parents came over for dinner. I wasn't really friends with him anymore, so he wasn't here. I didn't bother hanging out with them after the meal was over, so I was helping Gramma Rose do the dishes and I overheard them talking like it was old times."

"Mr. and Mrs. Carter were involved with Jaha's group?" There's no way they'd given all of their money to Jaha's group. They were one of the more affluent families in town.

Bellamy paused. "They were talking to my mom, saying that she should reconsider coming back into the program. They even went so far as promising her that she would have a guaranteed job in as a teacher after the election that fall. She took the bait, but only for a little while. The Carters told her all about a new program that the Department of Education was going to instill in all of the schools across the country. Even the private schools would be required to teach the same curriculum. She said she'd consider the offer, thanked them, and ended the evening pretty quickly. After that, I never saw them at my house again. Octavia, Mom and I were at the grocery store a few days before the accident and we ran into them. I swear they all acted like they didn't know each other. I don't think it was a coincidence that she ended up dying 72 hours later."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing, the accident that killed his mother also killed Noah. "Are you accusing Noah's parents of killing him? That's absurd!"

Bellamy shook his head slowly. He bit his lower lip and avoided my gaze. "No! That's not what I'm saying at all. I don't think Noah was supposed to be there that night. I think it was a huge mistake, that's all."

That wasn't all. He was hiding something else, I could tell. Whatever it was, he was keeping it to himself. I got up and ran out of the room, and out of the house, not caring about the stinging welts that left angry marks on my bare arms and face.


	10. Chapter 10

I didn't know where to go, what direction to travel in. The rain was coming down harder the longer I was outside and I headed for the first shelter I saw, the bunker barn. Inside the drafty building, the roof was leaking in spots. I managed to crawl underneath the broken down tractor and pull the hatch open. Once I'd dropped down to the dirt floor below me, I immediately went to the faucet and filled the basin full of fresh water. I rinsed my skin as well as I could and fell down onto the mattress. I didn't know if I should cry, or sleep, or just die. I wanted to keep running, and I felt more trapped than ever before. If it wasn't the rain keeping me in a place I now hated, it was my lack of intelligence. I had no idea where to go or what to do next. I almost failed out of high school and now I was flunking out of life.

Angrily, I threw the pillow against the wall. When that didn't alleviate my rage, I started throwing the empty cans and books as hard as could, not caring when they bounced back and struck my body. No tears would come, no matter how hard I got hit. The tightness in my chest didn't dissipate at all, not even when I stood up and slammed my fist into the packed dirt wall. A scream came from somewhere, but it didn't register in my mind that I was the one who let it out.

My hand throbbed in time with the beating of my heart. It was impossible to move two of my fingers without pain so intense I saw tiny white spots dancing behind my eyelids. A new determination filled my gut. I climbed the ladder and looked outside. The skies were still light, but I remembered that first time Bellamy took me up to the fields. The rain had stopped and I could hear footsteps coming toward the barn from the house. I didn't wait long enough to see who was coming. Instead, I took off into the wall of corn in front of me. After I'd disappeared behind a few rows, I stopped to get my bearings.

If I closed my eyes tight enough, I could picture Bellamy standing next to me, pointing up into the night sky.

 _"_ _Run in that direction and don't stop until you see a huge oak tree. Off to the left of that is an old shack."_

I could hear his words echo in my head as clearly as if he were speaking them to me right now. I ran as fast as I could, holding my hand against my belly. The drying stalks slapped against my face, leaving welts that ripped into the ones the rain already made. My naked arms were getting cut up as well, so I stopped long enough to pull my arms out of the short sleeves. From inside of the t-shirt, I grabbed hold of the material and kept it tight against my body. There wasn't anything I could do to protect my face other than slow down, but that wasn't an option. Not when I could hear Bellamy's voice calling out over the crop.

It felt like I ran for miles. My lungs burned and the muscles in my legs screamed in agony. I had to stop to catch my breath and when I did, I noticed the corn stalks were browner here than they were in the middle. I remembered once when Murphy, Atom, and I went into an old field to make a party pit, they said you could tell when you were far enough away from the edge because the plants weren't as dry. I took this as a sign that I was close to the edge of the field and pushed through the pain to keep moving.

When I finally cleared the field, the huge oak tree that towered high above me was the most beautiful sight in the world. I looked toward the left and saw the dilapidated structure that Bellamy must've been talking about. It was surrounded by thick foliage and I don't know that I would've seen it if I didn't know to look for it. I remembered the map on the wall had a big green circle somewhere out here and I silently prayed this shack was it.

The door was hanging off its hinges, the wood rotting from neglect and age. I pulled my arms back into the sleeves and winced when I moved my hand too much. Moving cautiously, I slowly entered the building, swiping new cobwebs away from my face with every step I took. The building was empty other than dead leaves and animal droppings. I jumped back a step when a mouse scurried across my feet, squeaking angrily that his resting place had been disturbed. Turning a slow circle, I looked for a sign that anything in here could be moved, or lifted out of place, to reveal a secret passageway.

I didn't notice the hole in the floor until I'd already stepped on it. The wooden planks gave way and I fell into the dark pit, landing hard on my backside. I screamed again when I instinctively held out my hands to break my fall. If my hand wasn't broken before, surely it was now. I swallowed the temptation to vomit all over myself and took a few cleansing breaths to calm my nerves. All I accomplished was filling my lungs full of dust, causing a massive coughing fit. I had to look at it just right, but when I noticed the tunnel, I smiled to myself.

Aurora Blake's map was right.

This was an Underground Railroad depot.

The way I saw it, I only had two choices. I could climb up out of here and go back to Rose's to admit I was throwing a tantrum of epic proportions. Or I could take my chances in the tunnels and see where it led. I never considered the third option of staying put and waiting for Bellamy to come rescue me again.

Pushing myself up on the wall, I took a few tentative steps toward the gaping black hole. I held my good hand out in front of me and let me feet shuffle along, inches at a time. The last thing I wanted to do was walk into a wall or fall into another pit. That would be the ultimate insult to add to my current injuries.

As the darkness swallowed me, my fingers ran along the rough wall. It didn't take long for me to notice the rectangular patterns. Although the floor was hard packed dirt, it seemed like the walls were bricked up. The ceiling was high enough that I could walk upright, which surprised me. I'd always imagined the tunnels being so small that a grown man would have to crawl on his belly. The stale air was damp and the walls were wet and slimy. I assumed it was rocks that I kept stubbing my toes on as I shuffled forward blindly. It was better than stepping on something sharp, so I kept the soles of my tennis shoes flat against the ground.

I had no idea how long I'd walked, but I was exhausted and my entire body ached. There wasn't a single sound down here, not from up ahead or from the direction where I'd come. Leaning against the wall, I let myself sink to the ground to rest for a little while. Even as tired as I was, I didn't close my eyes for more than a few seconds at a time. I tried my best not to let the darkness creep into my mind, so I quietly sang to myself. Not only did it break the silence, but it helped me keep track of time a little bit. Every time I moved on to a different song, I knew about three minutes had passed. Eventually, I worked up such a rhythm, the treacherous walk wasn't bothering me as much. Even the pain in my hand began to subside. In order to make the darkness easier to tolerate, I kept my eyes closed. Not only did it keep the dust out of them, it made me feel like I was in control a little bit more.

After repeating the same song at least two dozen times, I started to hear sounds up ahead. The canvas on my shoes got cold and wet when I walked into what felt like a tiny stream. I figured I was in the middle of a downward slope since the water got deeper the farther I shuffled. Shivering, I pushed on, determined to find out what was at the end of this tunnel instead of turning back. Tiny pinpricks of light came through the wall ahead of me. I had no way to judge the distance, but I hoped it wouldn't be far.

With a deep breath and more determination, I pushed on through knee deep, freezing cold water. Wrapping my arms around myself to fight away the cold was useless. I was so close to the end, I hurried up, splashing through the water. There was no way the exit was very far away, but as fast as I could move through the water, it still seemed so far away. Finally, the shape of the opening formed in front of me. I was waist deep in the water by now and my heart sank when I saw bars covering the hole.

No! I hadn't gotten this far, walked for this long, only to be trapped in. I could see dead leaves floating on the surface of the water in front of me. The light shining in was growing dimmer, as if the sun was setting. It was hard to believe I'd been walking for over eight hours, but if it was almost night, it had to be true.

When I got closer to the bars, I could see it was a rusted metal grate. Either it was designed to keep people out of the tunnel, or trap someone in.

Something cracked in the distance. It sounded like a car backfiring, or maybe like a gunshot I'd seen in movies. I wrapped the fingers of my good hand around the metal and shook it a little bit, hoping it would become dislodged and I could walk straight out of there. No matter which bar I grabbed or how hard I tugged, I couldn't get it to move. The water splashed around me and I was soaked from head to toe. My fingers ran across the wall, hoping to find a weak area. Maybe if I could get a bar or two out, I'd make a hole big enough to squeeze through.

I stopped to assess the situation and that's when the silence outside was broken again. This time, the crack was louder. Whatever or whoever was out there, they weren't very far away. Instinctively, I pressed my back against the wall and waited. I could hear footsteps running toward the tunnel entrance. Hoots and shouts followed behind, accompanied by even more motion. I could hear a dog angrily barking before I saw the deer run by.

The dog flew past just as quickly, his bark alerting the people behind him that he was still on the trail of their game. I didn't dare leave the safety of the shadow the wall provided, but I could still see a small group of boys run by, chasing the dog that was chasing the deer. I counted four boys that looked close to my age and one girl. Two of the boys held shotguns high up in the air as they ran. I didn't get a good look at the girl, but she wore a jacket that looked vaguely familiar. Maybe I'd walked so far I was back in Maverick.

After I was sure they had moved on far enough, I started digging at the bricks again. Whatever fingernails I had left were now broken down to the nubs and my fingertips burned. My foot kicked against something hard and I bent down into the water to pick it up. It was a rock twice the size of my fist. Despite the pain, I wrapped both of my hands around it and started banging it on the brick wall next to the grate. It was a tiring process, but I could see little chips breaking off with each strike.

My shoulders ached so bad it was becoming harder and harder to hold onto the rock anymore. I couldn't sit down to rest, or else I'd be up to my neck in the freezing water, so I just leaned up against the wall. I'd hit the rock against the bricks a few times before resting again. The pattern repeated many times over the course of the next hour and I'd managed to crumble a few of the bricks but not enough to get through. By now the sun was almost set, only a faint glow on the horizon lit the sky.

After I'd hit the bricks a few more times, I heard another crack. This time, it didn't sound like a gun firing. Instead, it sounded like someone stepped on a stick. I froze in place and pressed against the wall again, trying to control my breathing so that they wouldn't find me.

"I swear I heard it," a boy's voice said. "Somewhere from over here."

The footsteps grew closer and I started to sweat in spite of the cold temperatures.

"Oh come on Monty," the girl voice complained. "If there was someone out here, Barley would've sensed it already."

Please don't let the dog come, I prayed.

"What's going on?" Another voice and more footsteps joined them.

"Monty says he heard something banging over here," the girl answered.

I could hear the panting of the hound dog. It was almost as loud as my heartbeat. I held my breath and turned my head to look out of the grating without moving away from the wall. I couldn't see the dog, but I could see the girl and two of the boys. The other ones must've been scouting the area. I could hear them moving around, but the ones I could see were standing still.

One of the boys pointed out what should have been obvious to the rest of his group. "There's nothing out here. You hearing things again?"

They started walking, back in the direction they'd come from and I let out a sigh of relief. I knew I should wait a while before resuming my grand escape attempt. I had to give them plenty of time to get far enough away that this Monty guy wouldn't hear me again.

Just when I was certain it would be okay to get back to work, the snarling, slobbery snout of the hound dog appeared out of nowhere and started barking loudly. He growled at me, and I wracked my brain to remember what to do if an animal attacked you.

Don't make eye contact, my mind screamed.

I looked it dead in the eyes.

The only thing keeping me from becoming dog food was the metal grate in between us. I backed up into the darkness again. It was nearly impossible to move uphill, and my feet slid out from underneath me, dropping my body into the water like the heavy rock in my hand. I couldn't let go of it. If that thing managed to get in here, it was the only weapon I had.

"What've you got Barley?"

I could hear the running footsteps of all of the kids again and tried to stay as still as possible. Maybe if they didn't hear me, they would think the dog was nuts.

Barley lowered his head, still staring into the dark tunnel. His growl was low, but constant. The girl stood at his side and followed his gaze. I could tell she couldn't see me, but I knew if I moved at all, she might. The dog took a few steps toward the grate, the growl still constant.

Jesus, I thought. Doesn't he need to take a breath or something?

The boys flanked the dog, curious about the tunnel opening that they'd never noticed before.

"What do you think? Think the noise was coming from in here?"

"If it is, I sure hope it's G-Men soaking in acid water," Monty laughed.

My heart leapt into my throat. Acid water? My skin was itchy, but there wasn't a burn like what happened from the rain.

"Jackson, did you bring the flashlight?" the girl asked.

The tallest boy with the thinnest build reached into a backpack and pulled out a long black cylinder. The only choice I had to stay hidden would be if I submerged myself in the water completely. I'd have to do it slowly, so that they wouldn't hear me.

I took a deep breath, puffing out my cheeks, and slowly sank into the water. I could still hear muffled voices, but it was hard to make out what they were saying. The girl seemed to shriek something, and I thought I heard my name, but the fact that I was about to drown made it hard to listen closely.

"Clarke!" The voice was louder, a little clearer.

I heard a loud explosion and felt bits of rock and brick spray across my body into the water. My air supply was running out. Lights started dancing behind my eyelids and my lungs burned, begging for release. Tiny air bubbles tickled my nose when I couldn't hold it in anymore. I felt something big and meaty grab my ankle and I panicked, attempting to pull away. As I scrambled, I ended up with a mouth full of water. I tried to get away and screamed, clawing at the slimy floor, but his grip on me was too tight. One foot was still free, so I kicked out as hard as I could and came in contact with something. It must've been the boy that was grabbing me, because his grip released.

A bright light shined into the tunnel, casting a creepy shadow of my squirming body against the wall.

"Clarke Griffin?" I could hear the girl's voice again. She sounded more confused than threatening. "Come on Jackson, you gotta get her out of there."

"Stay back!" I screamed. "I have a gun. I'll shoot you." I stayed under the water so that they couldn't see my hands were empty.

Jackson backed up out of the water slowly. The explosion I'd heard must've been someone shooting into the wall because the brick was crumbled now and they'd pulled the grate back and out of the way. Once he was standing on dry ground, I could see him quickly pull off his t-shirt and take a bottle of water from his friend. As he poured it over his body, rinsing the dirty water from his skin, he shook his head. "I ain't going back in there. She wants to come out, she's gonna have to do it on her own."

They all backed away, the girl grabbing the collar of the dog and giving him a command in a harsh, foreign language that I didn't understand. She called out to me.

"Clarke, it's okay. We're not the government. We won't hurt you, but you've got to get out of that water, or it will."

"Who are you?" I stayed put, refusing to budge until I figured out who they were and why that girl looked so familiar.

"It's me, Harper," she said with a soft smile. "You were in half my classes last year." Harper turned from me and addressed the boys. "Maybe she took the serum and can't remember anything."

"If they got to her with that, how'd she get away?" Monty countered.

That's why her jacket looked so familiar. I remember sitting behind her, wondering who hand painted the floral design on it.

"I didn't take anything," I said, cautiously moving toward the entrance. When the warm night air hit my skin, the itch intensified and it took every ounce of willpower I had not to start scratching in front on everyone.

Harper gasped for air when I stood in the full beam of the flashlight. It was harsh against my eyes and I turned my face away from it. My hair clung to my cheeks and I pushed it away, clutching my sore hand against my body again.

"Jesus…" One of the boys muttered. "Have you been in there this whole time?"

"I thought you died," another said. "I even went to your funeral."

I looked at him and saw a familiar face. Nathan Miller hung out at the skate park with Murphy, Atom and me. "Well thanks. I hope you bought me nice flowers."

"A yellow rose, actually." His face broadened into a smile and he pulled his dry shirt off. He dug in Jackson's backpack and pulled out two bottles of water. "I can't help about the pants, but you need to get out of those clothes before they become your new skin." He handed me the stuff.

I cradled the bottles in my bad arm and held on to the shirt, keeping it away from my wet body.

"I can!" Harper offered. Right there, in front of everyone, she pulled off the cargo pants she was wearing. Underneath, she wore a pair of boy shorts. Monty whistled and slapped her on the butt. She smacked his hand away and started walking toward a think shrub. "Come on, I'll help."

Reluctantly, I followed her and ducked behind the foliage. Without a word, I stripped naked and carefully poured the clean water over my skin.

"So what happened to you? Where've you been?" Harper's voice seemed a little perkier than I was used to hearing lately.

I didn't answer her directly. "What's been going on out here?"

She blew out an exaggerated breath. "Other than the whole world falling apart, nothing. Joe's turned the whole country into chaos. We're all under martial law. Curfews are ridiculous and everyone our age has been taken. Well," she paused. "Almost everyone. We got away. There's a few more, and we've heard there's rebel groups forming from coast to coast."

"Rebel groups?" I pulled the t-shirt on and slid my wet legs into the pants. The fabric was dry, but it still clung to every drop of water on me.

"Yeah, it's crazy, isn't it? I mean, two months ago, we were all just teenagers waiting to go to the next party. Now we're learning how to shoot guns and hide in caves and hunt for our own food. It gets really gnarly when the rains come, but we've noticed a pattern, so we usually can get to cover in time."

She pulled her long blonde hair out of the rubber band and put my hair up in a messy bun to keep it off my neck. I welcomed the breeze against my skin. "So it's only you five? Who are the others?"

I didn't want to ask directly about Murphy and Atom, but she knew exactly what I meant and shook her head slowly. "It's best if you ask Miller. He probably knows more than any of us."

I looked over toward the boys and gathered up my wet clothes. "Who're the other guys?"

Harper smiled again and pointed to each in turn. "That's Monty, my boyfriend. You know Miller already, and that's Jackson and his brother Jasper."

"What are you guys doing out here? Do you live in the woods?"

"We pretty much roam where we can to find food. There's a couple of places we can crash at if we need to, but never for more than a day at a time. Jackson and Jasper snuck to their old house this morning and stole the guns. We figured we'd try hunting. It's been a long time since we've had real food, ya know?"

I knew, but not in the same way. "So did you get the deer?"

Harper laughed. "Heck no! Those boys don't know how to shoot a gun to save their lives. Too bad the idiots didn't think the grab more ammo. A few more shots from now, those guns will be all for show and that's about it."

My mind drifted back to Bellamy's farm. He could make bullets. And his grandmother had food. The cool breeze danced across my skin again, making me shiver. The boys had gathered wood and piled it up in a circle. I didn't realize how tired I really was until I sat down next to it and let the heat seep into my bones. Miller was across the fire from me, poking the embers with a long stick and making sparks fly up into the air.

"Aren't you afraid someone might see the smoke and catch you?" I asked.

Jackson was the one who answered. "Naw, the G-Men all took off yesterday and headed northwest out of town. My guess is they've got new people to terrorize and kidnap."

I swallowed hard, not wanting to think about who'd been kidnapped. Jasper moved over and sat down next to me. He was taller than me, but shorter than Bellamy, with shocks of red hair chopped in uneven layers. Dirt smudged his skin and he smelled like a combination of body odor and outdoors. He pulled his knees up and crossed his arms on them, resting his face and looking right at me.

"If you're not dead, does that mean Bellamy is alive, too?" He finally spoke after giving me the strangest long look.

"You mean Nerd-Boy?" Miller laughed. "Remember that guy, Jackson? He came to Atom's party and held up the walls."

Jackson laughed at the memory and my face turned red. "He has a name," Jasper scolded.

A part of me shrunk inside, knowing that I was the one who started the nickname in the first place. Jasper was still looking at me, waiting patiently for me to answer.

"I used to go out with Octavia Blake, his sister. I just wondered, that's all. I hated to hear her brother died so soon after she lost her mom."

I didn't know if I should answer Jasper's question or not. What if they were spies? Then again, how could they be? They were kids my age, not weird government lackeys looking for information. I looked at Miller through the flames again and decided not to answer Jasper. Not yet anyway. "Have you seen Murphy?"

Miller's gaze looked up through the fire and locked onto mine. Hatred dripped from his mouth when he answered me. "He joined up with the soldiers. I'd say he was personally responsible for rounding up most of our old crew."

No, that couldn't be.

Murphy was the biggest rebel I knew.

"Good lord, Miller. We all know why he did it, so settle down." Jackson cut in.

"Why's that?" I asked. There had to be a reason. I just hoped it was a good one.

The look on Jackson's face was more serious than any I'd ever seen on an adult. "They took Atom. Hell, they took Fox and the baby, too. Don't you think Murphy would jump at the chance to go find them?"

"That's no reason for him to come and take my little sister. I swear, if I ever see his face again, he'll wish I hadn't." Miller poked the fire, sending another shower of sparks into the sky again.

I crossed my legs in front of me and digested what I'd heard. I could see Murphy charging into a situation that was dangerous to save his brother. Atom was probably the only person in the world he would do that for. But I couldn't picture him turning his friends over in the process. "Maybe he got drugged?" I offered.

Jasper shook his head. "Anybody who got ahold of that crap was out cold for two weeks, give or take. Murphy joined up right away and the night he came to the skate park with the soldiers, he was fully aware of what was going on. That was less than a week after the plant blew up."

I wasn't sure what burned more, my skin or my heart. Murphy was gone. Atom was gone. Hours ago, I ran away from the only friend I had left in the world. Once again, I gave myself two choices. I could sit around and throw a pity party, which is what got me here in the first place. Or, I could go back, tell Bellamy what was going on and we could work together to figure it all out.

"Bellamy's alive, too." I finally answered Jasper and watched the expression on his face lighten up a little bit. "So is Octavia and their grandmother."

Jasper laughed. "That Rose is a tough old lady. Even when I heard the soldiers were out at her place, I knew she'd be okay."

A thought suddenly occurred to me. Was Murphy there as well? Was he one of the reasons I'd been trapped in that dungeon for so long?

"Do they have food and water there?" Harper sounded so hopeful.

I knew I shouldn't offer it, but I didn't care. These kids needed help, and Rose Blake's farm was a good place to start. I nodded and leaned back, forgetting about my hand for a second too long. I winced and pulled it out from underneath me right away.

Monty noticed and came over to look at it. One by one, he moved each of the fingers in all directions. It hurt so bad I wanted to punch him, but I bit my lip and swallowed the pain. After squeezing, poking, poking and twisting my hand, he grabbed hold of my ring finger tightly. "It's jammed, not broken. Brace yourself."

I didn't even know what he meant by that, and when he yanked on my finger, I nearly passed out. Crying out into the night, I could hear my scream echo through the air. My hand was still sore, but at least it didn't hurt worse when I moved it.

Harper grimaced. "That's gotta suck," she said through gritted teeth.

"You think?" I growled.

I lied back on the soft ground and looked up at the stars. It wasn't hard to find the Big Dipper and from there my eyes wandered toward the North Star. Everyone around me was quiet, so only the sounds I heard were the crackling fire and the heavy panting of the dog. I was so used to hearing tree frogs chirp all night, it seemed so odd that I couldn't hear them now. I wondered if the rains killed them all, or at least drove them all away.

Eventually, my eyes closed and I drifted off into a fitful sleep. Every few minutes, I would wake up. I couldn't tell if it was because I was so lost, or if it was because I wasn't used to sleeping alone again. Part of me expected to be snug in my bed, ending this whole nightmare. But each time I saw the stars twinkle overhead again, I knew this was my new reality, like it or not.


	11. Chapter 11

The sun had just poked over the horizon when I decided to get up and face the day. My stomach growled angrily and I wished I had something to eat. Everyone else was scattered around the almost dead fire, curled up on the ground sleeping. Jasper, Miller and Jackson were off to the side by the tunnel and Harper cuddled up against Monty near me. Sometime during the night, I decided that these kids shouldn't have to be out here in the woods like this, hunting for dinner and stealing water to drink. They all smelled horrible, and I doubted any of them had taken a shower recently.

Once they woke up, I'd try to figure out how to get back to Rose's farm, even if it meant having to say I was sorry for storming off the way I did.

Harper was the first to wake up. When she sat up, she interrupted Monty's slumber and he rolled over to stretch out. Even though I wasn't right next to them, I could hear his joints pop and he groaned. The noise woke up the other three boys and everyone took their time sitting up.

Monty poked at the embers, and fashioned a rack of sticks that would hold the small aluminum pan he pulled out of his own backpack. He poured three bottles of water into the pan and set it down on the fire to get hot. While he waited, he went over to the small pool of water that gathered in the ditch around the tunnel entrance and refilled them.

"Are you going to drink that?" I asked him with a worried voice.

He nodded. "You have to boil it a few times first, but then it doesn't taste bad anymore."

"Are you sure it's not still poisonous?" I couldn't imagine heating something that causes such a rash would ever be potable.

Monty shrugged. "When you're hallucinating because you're so dehydrated, you learn to take chances." He came back over to the fire and pulled two small canisters out of the bag. They were each filled with paper packets of salt and sugar. Curiously, I watched him empty the contents of several packets of each and stir it with his fingertip. After the water started to steam, he pulled it off the fire and dumped it into two empty soda bottles before passing the around the group. Each one of them took big gulps of the liquid before passing it to their neighbor.

When it was my turn, I wrinkled my nose at the thought of poison, salt, sugar, and backwash, but I tipped it to my lips and drank it down anyway.

Jackson poured a small amount into a little bowl and let the dog lap it up. "It hasn't killed him yet, so I think we're safe."

I hoped he was right.

Miller stuffed the empty bottles back into his bag and repacked the salt and sugar. "I say we head for the highway. We can follow it west and maybe see what the soldiers are up to. Either that, or we can head north to the prison and see what's going on there."

There was much discussion as to which path to choose, but eventually, everyone decided to go to the prison first. After all, Jackson pointed out with a wicked grin, if they could manage to break out some of their friends, the rebellion could be more effective.

"Bellamy's farm can't be too far from here. That's where we've been hiding ever since the meltdown. They have food and water and showers there. He also has more guns and bullets and knows how to use them. He was going to teach me, but never did. I say we all go back there and at least get a bath, a hot meal, and maybe a map before we head out."

Harper grinned again and I could see a new twinkle in her eye. "A bath sounds so amazing right now! Are you sure they'll let us in?"

I stood up and brushed the dirt off my borrowed pants. "I don't see that they have much choice. I'd hate to make an anonymous report about their illegal gun collection…"

I wouldn't really do that, but I could always use it as a threat if grouchy Rose protested.

"I seriously don't want to go in there." Harper shrank away from the tunnel entrance. "Even to take a bath."

I stopped before stepping into the water again.

Jasper reminded me that he used to go out with Octavia in high school. "It's not far from here, but easy to get lost in these woods. We should head for the road and follow that."

"How far away is it?" asked Miller.

Jasper shrugged. "Maybe five miles? It's a fifteen minute car ride, so you do the math."

We started walking in an uneven line. Barley led the way, pouncing through the undergrowth, chasing and retrieving a stick that Jackson kept throwing out. By the time was high overhead, we'd not only found the road, but I could see the long lane that cut through the corn fields and stopped at Rose's house.

I could see the old woman standing outside. A large rug was draped over the porch railing and she was beating it with a broom. She looked up when we got close enough and I swear I saw her glare at me. The rest of the kids stopped, nervously waiting someone to say something.

"Well if it isn't Jasper Jordan!" Rose's frown turned into a smile and she leaned the broom against the rug before climbing down the stairs.

Jasper approached her and leaned over to hug her. "It's good to see you Gramma Rose," he said.

"By God you smell horrible boy! When's the last time you had a bath?"

He shrugged and motioned for his friends to join him. I leaned against the tree with my arms crossed in front of me. "These are my friends, Harper, Monty, Miller, and my brother Jackson. We hate to bother you, but we were hoping we could get cleaned up a little bit? And maybe you could spare something to eat? We won't make a mess and we don't need much, I promise."

She playfully smacked him on the arm. "You don't even have to ask, boy. Where's your parents?"

Jasper looked at the ground. "Mom is still at home, but they caught my dad when he was taking us to Aunt Linda's. I don't know what happened to him, but it's not safe for my mom for us to go home."

The corners of Rose's mouth drooped. "So it's true? Good old Jaha is rounding up all the kids?"

"Adults, too," Harper added. "They took my mom and my dad."

Rose pressed her hands against her chest as she appraised the pathetic group in front of her. "You poor, poor things. Now I've only got one shower, and the hot water only lasts for about a half hour, so don't be greedy about it. I'll make you all something to eat while you take turns cleaning up."

They all broke into grins and slowly climbed the stairs. Rose stopped Jasper and talked to him alone in a voice low enough I couldn't tell what she was saying. Judging from the way he kept looking up at Octavia's window, I didn't have to guess very hard to know. Finally, she linked her arm through his and walked up the steps with him. She didn't even look back at me before the door closed behind them.

I rolled my eyes at nothing and no one, pushed myself off the tree and walked to the work shed. The door creaked lightly when I opened it and my light footsteps echoed on the wooden floor. I didn't have to look very hard to find the hatch door. It was wide open and the lights in the underground room were on. I climbed down the ladder carefully, still babying my hand, and found Bellamy with his back to me at the workbench.

One after another, he filled the empty casings with black powder and sealed them before tossing them into the basket. I stood there, awkward in the silence. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore.

"How do you think your sister is going to react when she sees Jasper again?"

He stopped working for a moment but still didn't turn around. "Probably about as well as she reacts to anything anymore," he said with a tired voice. He placed another shell into the machine and pulled down the press. "I'm sure my grandmother is thrilled though. She always had a soft spot for him."

"Judging by the warm embrace, I'd say you're right. They're inside. Taking showers and getting lunch."

"I saw," he said, continuing his work as if it were the only thing that mattered.

"We're going to the prison." I took a few steps closer but stayed out of his personal space. "They took all of the kids, and some of their parents. There's a whole revolution starting already."

"That's not surprising, but it's ridiculous if they think they will accomplish anything already. It takes years to form an army good enough to overthrow a government."

I tried to laugh. "Especially when they have no idea how to shoot a gun. They're out of bullets anyway. Maybe we can stand at the gates and just demand they release people? We could try playing really loud heavy metal music. That might do the trick. Ya think?"

The muscles in his arms and back rippled with the next bullet. He pressed down too hard and pulled the casing out of the machine before tossing it to the side.

"So when are you leaving?"

I reached over and placed my hand on his back. He stiffened just like the first time I leaned against him in the cafeteria. It seemed like years had passed since then. "You could come with us?"

He hung his head and dropped his hands onto the bench. "I wouldn't be much use," he said quietly.

"You're wrong." I took his arm and forced him to turn around. His brown eyes locked with mine and I saw dark circles shadowing them. He looked ten years older than just twenty-four hours ago. "You knew this was coming when no one else did. You can teach us all how to shoot, and you're smarter than all of us put together. Maybe I'm just being selfish, but I want you to go."

He shook his head, his gaze falling to the floor. With a shaky voice, he refused. "I can't leave Octavia. I made a promise to my mother."

"Fine," I said, dropping my hand to my side. "If the only thing that's keeping you here is the fact that your sister is incapable of taking care of herself, then shit's about to change around here."

I turned and climbed the ladder, not waiting to see if he was coming or not. With determined steps, I stormed into the kitchen, past the bedraggled party at the table. Jasper and Rose were sitting in the living room, apparently enjoying the whole catching up thing. I stomped up the stairs and threw open Octavia's bedroom door.

She laid there, still pretending to be a disabled and my gut heated up to the point of boiling.

"Get up!" I screamed, ripping the quilt off of her body.

Her eyes flew open, a silent protest forming on her lips.

"I said," I ranted. "Get your lazy ass out of this bed right now!"

"How dare you?" Rose pushed past me into the room and gathered the quilt off the floor.

"How dare _I_? Why don't you ask her that question? She's perfectly fine, and you all know it."

Rose spun on her heels and practically spit at me. "I offered you safety and this is how you repay it? Leave my home, and if I ever see you step foot on my property again, I'll shoot you without question."

I crossed my arms and planted my feet. "You yourself told us she gets up to get books. Remember that? I had a long conversation with her just yesterday, isn't that right, Octavia?"

She didn't respond, just like I thought she wouldn't. Her brother ran into the room.

Bellamy wrapped his long fingers around my arm. "What are you doing?" He looked at me like I was insane.

Maybe I was. "You aren't going to tell them?" I stared Octavia down, but she didn't flinch. Turning to look at Bellamy, I pulled my arm out of his grasp. "She likes the pink streaks in my hair and thought she couldn't pull it off herself. If you look close enough, you'll see the lipstick still smeared on her hair. Unless Rose already washed it off and didn't bother to question how it got there. There's probably still a little mascara caked on her eyes. We had quite the little makeover party that was filled with girl talk, didn't we, Octavia?"

Bellamy started to grab me again, but I backed away.

"Tell him Octavia!" I was being harsh, but I didn't care. There was no room in my life for lies. When she refused to speak, I turned back to Bellamy again. "Your mother used to read the Lion and the Mouse to her every night. She thinks lipstick smells gross but wears it anyway because her perfect Gramma Rose says a lady is never ready for the day without her lipstick."

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the old woman's face growing redder with each passing moment. I didn't care.

"Do you know what girl talk is, Bellamy? It's where we gossip. Usually about boys. She said you told her all about me, even though you thought she wasn't listening. But she was, weren't you Octavia? You thought I was impossible and annoying." I ignored Rose's snort. "Then you just tried to convince yourself that you still thought that. You even took time out of your life to tell your poor little sister that I pop my bubblegum. It was only then that she told me you knew me in high school. She said some other stuff, but that's not important now. What is important, is the fact that she made me promise not to tell anyone and I stupidly agreed. But the only reason she doesn't want you to know is because…"

Bellamy cut me off and walked toward Octavia's bed. "Because everyone else has left her, but that would keep me here."

"It's not fair," Octavia whispered as she pulled herself up to a sitting position. Tears fell across her cheeks and she couldn't look Bellamy in the eye. "I'm sorry."

His entire body collapsed onto her bed and he gathered her into his arms. I could hear them both crying, their arms tightly holding on to one another for the first time in a long time. I glanced at Rose. The glare was gone and her eyes were wet, even though no tears fell. The look she gave me was softer, gentler, than I'd seen her send my way since I walked into her house. I swear that I saw her mouth the words 'thank you' toward me as I walked out of the room, leaving the family to their reunion.

I didn't want to go back in there, but I needed clean clothes. Instead of interrupting them, I went to Bellamy's room and found a t-shirt and a pair of pajama pants then went into the hallway to wait my turn for the shower.

Everyone sat around the kitchen table to eat supper. Laundry was tumbling in the washer and dryer, buttons clicking against the drums at a rhythmic rate. There wasn't very much conversation other than multiple compliments and expressions of gratitude from the weary group of kids. I hadn't spoken to anyone since my tirade in Octavia's room, but when it was time for dinner, Rose popped her head into Bellamy's bedroom to let me know. It was as if she'd forgotten all about the banishment and threats she'd given me only a few hours earlier.

I sat quietly, picking at my plate of spaghetti and studied each person in turn.

Harper was your average American teenager. Her long blonde hair hung straight from her head and if I remembered correctly, she used to wear a lot of makeup. Right now, her skin was pink from the sun, but that was about it. She was at least three inches taller than me and was just as skinny. She was thin, but she had curves in all the right places. I remembered seeing her on graduation day and being a little jealous. Not only was she absolutely stunning in the pale blue dress she wore, she had two adoring parents flanking her on either side the entire time.

I couldn't remember ever seeing her boyfriend Monty before. He looked about our age but had wisdom in his eyes that I only saw in old people, or college graduates. His complexion was amazingly clear and tanned from days being out in the sun. He wore his hair close cut and spiky on top. I suspected he might be of mixed race since he had pale green eyes. When he smiled though, as rare as that was, he lit up the entire room around him. I remembered how he seemed to be the one in charge out in the woods, and his demeanor was the same when it came to making sure his rag-tag friends took showers and cleaned up after themselves.

Miller was one of the regulars at the skate park. He graduated in the same class as Atom, and seemed to be at every party. He never talked much, but when he got mad, the whole world knew. His dark hair was a little longer now, but from what I recalled, his curls were always buzzed so short he was almost bald. He had a strong build and was quick to run off and pull stupid shenanigans with the Murphy boys. I was pretty sure he had a record as long as John Murphy's.

Jackson was another member of the party pack. He was a prankster at heart with a stocky build and big laugh. His red hair was often the butt of jokes and more than once, he tackled a guy for calling him a ginger. I never really talked to him often, but I'd seen him put away a fair share of liquor and beer and stay steady on his feet. From the long walk back to the house, I knew Barley was his dog, and he loved that thing more than anything. Except his brother maybe.

I'd never met Jasper before, not that I could think of anyway. He was Jackson's younger brother and they shared the same ruddy complexion and red hair. He was just as thin as Jackson, but I could easily picture him holding his own in a wrestling match. He was the one who held up a glass of milk during dinner and gave an impromptu toast.

"Too the eight hundred and seventy-three people who aren't here tonight to taste this delicious pasta."

Everyone else lifted their glasses and joined in with a somber "here, here", but I wrapped my fingers around the glass so tight I thought it might break.

No one said anything about it, but by the uncomfortable looks everyone was passing around, they all noticed.

Rose ended the moment by clearing her throat as she pushed herself away from the table. Grabbing empty plates, she started stacking them all in the sink.

"The way I see it," she said. "You kids all need a good night's sleep for a change. I'll move into Aurora's room and you two can have mine." She pointed at Jasper and Jackson. "Harper and Monty can have the couch. Don't worry, it's a very comfortable pull-out. Miller, you sleep in the guest room and Clarke, you can room with Bellamy."

I shot him a worried look at the same time he returned one to me. Everyone just nodded and a light conversation started while everyone helped clear the table. Jackson took a plate of scraps outside to feed to the dog while Harper started washing the dishes. In no time, they'd formed a well-working assembly line and each needed task was being completed. Rose excused herself to go get fresh linens for everyone and Bellamy disappeared after announcing he was going to switch the laundry loads.

After I had the table and counters wiped down, I folded the damp rag and made my way up the stairs. Every muscle in my body still ached and the fire hadn't gone away from my skin yet. The pounding in my head was getting so severe it was making me dizzy. Octavia's light was off, so I snuck in as quietly as I could and pulled all of my clothes out from her dresser drawer. I doubted she would want to speak to me again anytime soon, so I also grabbed my boots before heading down to Bellamy's room.

After changing out of his clothes and into a light cotton tank and sleep shorts, I crawled onto the bed to lie down without getting under the covers. My skin was bright pink and felt raw and I didn't think a heavy blanket on top of it would feel the best. I kind of wished I'd grabbed that jar of minty goo from the bathroom downstairs. I just didn't have the energy to go back down there tonight. Closing my eyes to shut out the overhead light, I decided I'd get it in the morning if the rash was still there.

I was almost asleep when I heard the door close quietly. Footsteps walked across the room and a table lamp clicked on. I could tell it was Bellamy just by the sound of his movements, by his breathing, and by the smell of clean soap and fresh air that seemed to cling to him. The overhead light went off and I could hear his dresser drawer opening. I could hear the rustle of fabric and awkward footing that accompanied someone changing their clothes. He must've thought I was asleep. I was tempted to peek, but he was on the other side of the room from where I was facing, so it would've been way too obvious. Instead, I stayed still, laying on my side facing away from him and only grimaced a little bit when the bed shifted from his weight when he climbed in.

I wanted to roll over and at least look at him, but I was too afraid he was angry with me about the whole Octavia thing. Hell, he was mad enough before that because I'd run away. I wasn't sure that there was a way to make things better. I had no idea what to say and I was pretty sure Hallmark didn't make a card for the occasion.

I jumped when the cold hit the back of my leg. I heard him whisper an apology before rubbing the familiar minty stuff into my skin. I rolled onto my belly and looked at him. He was patiently and methodically rubbing every square inch of my acid burnt skin without hitting any areas that were 'too personal'. He didn't pull my shirt up very far, but his fingers did reach under it and massaged the medicinal substance in. When he finished the back side of my body, I gently rolled over, being careful not to smear the stuff all over his quilt.

"I can do that," I said when he started rubbing it onto the fronts of my legs.

"Do you want me to stop?" He kept massaging while he asked. When he looked at me, I shook my head no and let him do whatever he wanted. Again, he didn't get too personal, but when his warm hands pressed against my belly, I felt tingles all of the way to my toes. My stomach did flips and my heart raced. I prayed he didn't notice too much.

He pulled his hand away and put the jar on the table. My skin was cold where he'd had his hand and I involuntarily shivered. Bellamy carefully laid next to me after taking another small amount of gel from the jar. He leaned on his elbow, propping his head against his hand and looked deep into my eyes. With light touches, he carefully applied the ointment to my face, starting at my hairline and working his way down to my neck. I swore his face was getting closer to mine with every breath I took. I'd never wanted someone to kiss me so much in my life, but instead of moving into him, I put my hand on top of his and stopped his movements.

"Did you really have a crush on me in high school?" He didn't say anything right away and I thought I'd misplayed the situation.

He smiled when I cringed. "I really did think you were annoying and quite impossible. But the bubblegum thing was kind of cute."

I just laughed. "That's okay, I thought you were the world's biggest dork. I'm glad one of us was wrong."

"Oh, no." I could see his playful grin in the soft light. "You really were annoying."

"I was the one who was wrong, not you."

"I know." He laid his head on the pillow next to mine and pulled me close. I wrapped myself around him, the warmth of his body the only heat I felt on my skin anymore, and closed my eyes for the last time that night.

When the morning came, everyone seemed to be in good spirits as they clamored around the kitchen table, dishing up big bowls of oatmeal. The boys were arguing over when we should leave, and I was pointing out the fact that no one has any idea where we are going or how to engage in this big showdown they had imagined.

"This is real life, not a video game you know," I said between bites. "I'm sure you can all hit top score, but when you can't hit a live deer, we've got a problem."

"What makes you the expert?" Miller asked with a smirk.

"The ability to admit when I'm not ready?" I answered. "We need to make a solid plan, with options and variables just in case it doesn't go right."

"And we need to learn how to shoot those guns," Harper added.

"Bell can teach you that stuff." A smiling Octavia sat down at the table and helped herself to the food. No one mentioned the shock her presence created. "He's a beast when it comes to that stuff. He can use a bow, too."

I turned and looked at him. He was busy studying his cereal and blushing. "Really?" I asked. "Hobby or sport?"

"I used to go hunting with my brother and father when I was little."

"Where is good ole' Finn anyway?" Monty asked. "He finally settle down or is he still out there partying it up?"

"Finn's been working for the state police for a few years now," Octavia answered. "He's up near Chicago now."

"He's on their side?" Monty dropped his spoon, stunned at the news.

Octavia shook her head and smiled. "I don't think so." No one dared dispute words that were so clear and matter-of-fact.

"He came and warned me before all of this happened. Maybe we should try and contact him, just to see what's happening from the inside." Bellamy's suggestion brought several nods of agreement.

"Do you have a phone?" Jackson asked.

Gramma Rose wiped her hands on her ever-present apron and joined them at the table. "I've got better, all I need is a ride into town."

"Piggyback?" Jasper offered with a laugh. "I don't know if you noticed we all walked here, Gramma?"

Her eyes sparkled with mischief. "That old Chevy truck is still out in the back barn. Believe it or not, it still runs."

"That's all fine and dandy," I said. "But who's going to be able to do that and not be taken by the soldiers? We're exactly the kind of people they've been taking."

"What I need is," Rose pointed her spoon at Harper. "A sweet little girl who poses no threat to anyone, who stumbled over to her favorite Gramma Rose's house in the middle of the night looking for shelter."

Monty shook his head vehemently. "No way. I'm not gonna let her get put up on the chopping block."

"Trust me," Rose countered. "She'll be fine. They won't want her, not with the baby on the way and all."

Harper and Monty both exchanged embarrassed looks.

Jasper and Jackson stared at the pair with dropped jaws. "What?" They echoed.

"I'm not!" Harper protested to the room.

Gramma smiled again and took another bite. "I don't think anyone's going to pull out a stick for you to pee on. Squeeze that butt into Aurora's old clothes. She was at least two sizes smaller than you. If you slouch a little, that would make anyone look pregnant."

"Tell me about it," Jackson agreed. "The last time I borrowed a pair of Jasper's jeans, everyone thought I was about to deliver any minute."

"Okay," I said, taking charge of the room. "We've got a few different things in the works here, and I think we all agree that getting to the prison and freeing our friends is the priority. We need to decide in what order everything is going to happen."

Miller had already finished his breakfast and got up to rinse his bowl. "We need to contact this Finn guy for sure. So there's that. We need to learn how to shoot, which everyone says Bellamy can teach us. And I hate to be the bad news guy, but something tells me this isn't going to end soon. It might be hotter than Hades out there right now, but pretty soon it's gonna get cold. And I think we all know how unpredictable Midwest winters can be. We'll need to find warm clothes and winter provisions. A detailed map of the entire country would be nice, but a state map will do if that's all we can find. I say we break into the library."

"And we should go to the pharmacy or hospital and get stuff like antibiotics and bandages, for just in case," Harper added.

"What about heading to the mall and seeing what's left in the sporting goods stores?" Jackson suggested.

Miller shook his head. "The army probably already took anything that was useful. This area is thick with hunters. I'd say we'd have better luck searching farmhouses and stuff for camo and cold gear. We might be able to find some more weapons, maybe a few four wheelers and stuff. Me and Monty can hotwire anything we find, so it won't be hard to steal them. It'd make getting around a lot easier."

"Can you fix them, too?" Bellamy asked. "We've got one, but it hasn't run in a few years."

Miller guzzled a glass of cold milk and belched loudly when he was done. "I can fix anything."

My attention focused on Harper. "You said there was a pattern to the rains. What is it?"

She twisted in her chair and leaned against Monty. "There's a drone that comes first. You can barely hear it, but there's a weird hum in the air and my hair gets all static-y."

"It's from the electromagnetic emissions of the drone," Monty added. "About an hour after the drone comes, you can hear a plane fly overhead and then the rains start."

"They're seeding the clouds," Bellamy said.

"Yeah, it's like every Friday for sure, but sometimes it comes in between that too." Harper pulled a ratty pocket calendar out of her pocket and opened it up to look at the bold black X's she'd crossed off. Sure enough, every Friday was circled as well as intermittent dates in between.

It seemed impossible to me that an entire month had passed since that scary day at the hospital. "Are you sure it's not just fallout from the nuclear plant?"

Harper frowned. "My dad worked at the plant. He got ahold of my mom the day it happened and said the plant never had a meltdown. He said it was a bomb."

I still didn't want to believe that one man was behind all of what was happening to us. "He poisons the rain so that we think it's radiation? That doesn't make sense."

"How many times have you been in the rain, Clarke?" Jasper asked.

"Twice, and then the water in the tunnel."

"You'd be a whole lot sicker than you are right now if it was a strong poison or radiation." He was right, I felt sore and a little feverish, but that could be a result of my nerves more than anything else. "I'll bet your rash is gone in a few days, but it stings enough to make you want to run back inside, right?"

I nodded and looked down at my forearms. Instead of being a complete angry shade of red, I was now just covered with big pink splotches.

"It's their way of convincing people it's too dangerous to go outside. We've been drinking it for a month and haven't died. The animals aren't dead. If it was radiation, all of the wildlife would have run away and everyone would be a whole lot sicker," Monty added.

"Jaha can't have power over a nation of dead people, that wouldn't make sense," Jasper said. "But if people think the food and water is contaminated, they'll look to the government for help. That's where they put the serum; in the food and water."

"But what's his end game? I mean, he wants to get everyone under his control and then do what?" Even though I was starting to believe all of the conspiracies, I couldn't understand the purpose.

"If you think back decades ago, America was a super-power. It wasn't just because we had all the nukes and all the money. It was patriotism that made us a real threat to the rest of the world," Monty pointed out. "Ever since I can remember, we've been Republican this, Democrat that. People want to go to war, and others wanted us to stay out of it all. There were groups who advocated helping other countries, and ones who said keep the aid money at home. Borders and gun control and religion were the focal points of arguments that came so often, it was like our nation was falling apart. And then Jaha stepped in and acted like he was going to make it all better, for both sides. Now he's just making it better for him."

"So he wants an army full of drugged soldiers so that he can rule the world?" It still seemed impossible.

Bellamy shook his head. "It's not this generation he wants. That's why he's not taking our parents. He wants us to be so manipulated and brain washed that we raise our children to follow his beliefs without the drugs."

"He's half way into his second term," I interjected. "He'll be gone in two years."

"He already got rid of the second amendment. Who's to say a little bit of the right encouragement won't destroy the twenty second?"

"Well, enough of this history lesson," Jackson just came back inside after feeding Barley some oatmeal. "We've got a lot to do and not much time to get it right."

Everyone got up and cleared their mess before separating into groups. Bellamy led me, Jasper and Octavia back to the work shed to get guns. Rose took Miller out back to find the old four-wheeler after making up a to-go bag of sandwiches and water for Jackson, Monty and Harper who were headed toward town to see if there were any houses they could scavenge hunting gear from. Bellamy gave them a few names and addresses of some his father's old hunting buddies and suggested they start there. Barley chased behind them as they walked down the long lane with packs slung over their backs.

We skipped lunch and continued shooting all day long. Bellamy and Octavia set up tin coffee cans for us to use as targets. At first, I never hit it with a single pellet from the shotgun blast. It took a few bruises on my shoulder to remember to hold my arms steady. My ears were ringing even though we were all wearing foam earplugs. The first time I sent the can sailing, everyone cheered in celebration. All it took was for that one shot to hit and I started getting better at it. Bellamy switched out the can to one that was smaller, and eventually, a tin camping cup.

"Now let's try something that doesn't spray everywhere. You have to be more accurate." Bellamy took the shotgun out of my hands and replaced it with a rifle. It was a little bit lighter and not nearly as loud. Jasper and Octavia laughed and jeered when I couldn't even hit the big can with the bullet. Bellamy stood behind me, correcting my stance and I squeezed one eye closed so I could focus better on the target. It was becoming a ridiculous waste of ammunition and my body tensed with determination. My arms were tired from holding the weapon up for so long, but when I pulled the trigger and watched the can fly, I was nearly giddy.

Eventually, I was able to hit the tin cup every time I pulled the trigger. The bullet ripped through it, shredding the thin metal. Bellamy clapped me on the back with a proud smile. Jasper fared a lot better than I did, even though he claimed to have zero experience with firearms. Octavia practiced and it didn't take more than a few shots to show she had as much skill as the rest of us.

After we took a short break for an early supper, Bellamy marched us back out to practice some more. This time, he set up targets that were a hundred yards away to see if we could hit them. Each time we did, he would move them farther away. I landed each shot on the first try. Jasper did pretty well, but Octavia was horrible at distance shooting. While Bellamy concentrated his training on her, Jasper came and stood next to me.

"You're going to need to start working out, a crash course. Jackson would be a good trainer. He's the one that whipped us all into shape when this first started. It took almost two weeks before we could run fast enough to get away from him."

I curled my lip at him. "Can't I just do all the shooting? I'm not very athletic."

He smiled. "I can tell. But no, you'll still have to run, even after you shoot. Preferably run instead of shoot. Tomorrow we should go to the woods and play hide and seek. I bet I can find you in two minutes flat."

"Are you challenging me?"

"Are you accepting?" His wiggled his eyebrows and grinned.

I couldn't help but smile back but straightened my face immediately. I furrowed my brows. "Challenge accepted."

When we'd given up for the day, Octavia went into the house to help her grandmother with chores while the rest of us went down to put away the guns and make more ammo. It took less than an hour to gather up all the spent hulls and about the same time to reload them all. Nobody wanted the stock pile to get any smaller than necessary, so there were no complaints, even though it was cramped and getting hot down there.

By the time we were done, I was covered in a layer of sweat and dirt. I was beginning to think the grime was about to become a permanent part of my complexion. In the shower, I scrubbed every square inch of my skin, making sure to get it all off before applying the mint ointment to everyplace I could reach. The three hadn't returned from town yet, and I had to settle my mind to stop from thinking about all the bad what-ifs. When I left the bathroom, I could hear a television on down in the living room. Curious, I went down and found Bellamy and Rose sitting in chairs, their eyes glued to the screen. Octavia and Jasper sat next to each other on the couch, silent and listening to the news report. I took a seat next to Octavia and clasped my fingers together in my lap.

"New reports are coming in of an attack in Denver," the reporter said with a solemn face. "Initial reports are claiming massive casualties. We have a reporter on the scene."

The screen cut away to an attractive middle-aged woman dressed in a neatly pressed suit. Her hair was pulled tight against her head in an intricate bun and for the briefest moment, I couldn't take my eyes off of her stunning make-up job. She looked like a cover-model for the urban professional woman, not a field reporter.

"Yes Paul, you are correct. Although we don't have exact numbers, officials here are saying the death toll may climb into the thousands before it is all said and done."

The station anchor cut in. "Do they know what happened? What caused the building to collapse?"

The woman checked her little notebook and shook her head. "Witnesses claim to have seen what they called a truckload of juveniles racing away from the building only minutes before the explosions were heard. As we all know, Colorado was one of the last remaining safe spots in the country, and that is where President Jaha's administration is currently operating. For the past month, they have been setting up offices here in what used to be the Republic Plaza."

"Can you confirm that the building is leveled?"

"Yes," she nodded. "Although the rubble pile is stories deep, making it hard to see details of the structure, it is safe to say all fifty six floors have fallen. At the end of a workday when this building would have been heavily occupied, terrorists have struck again. Back to you, Paul."

The screen flashed back to the older man sitting stiffly behind a desk. "Another sad day in American history," he sighed and rustled the papers in front of him. "Denver and the surrounding areas are now under curfew while crews will be working around the clock, attempting to rescue any and all survivors."

It cut away to a recorded message. President Jaha's perfect white teeth smiled into the camera. "I'd like to remind my fellow Americans of the census. In order to determine the areas of greatest need in a time of uncertainty, it is imperative that we know how many of our citizens have been affected by recent tragedies. The most efficient way to do this is by way of a census. Please make sure that you visit your local law enforcement agency to report your household size. We will do our best to reach out to those who cannot make their way into a town, as we see may be an issue in many areas, so if you know of someone who cannot likely make a report on their own, do not hesitate to let any emergency response team member know. This includes police and fire departments as well as any hospital emergency room in your area. In the wake of devastation, I am proud to be a part of such a strong community. Together, we will fight these terrorists, and we will win."

A series of commercials aired next, each one advertising food and water delivery services. One bragged about a college tuition center that offered free education and training to anyone who was willing to learn.

The room was silent, and eventually Rose clicked the remote and turned the television off. She stood up and straightened the pillow she'd been sitting on.

"Well there's no better bedtime story than good ole Jaha. I'm going to retire for the night. Make sure all of the doors are locked." She pointed at me and Jasper. "You two need to sleep in Octavia or Bellamy's rooms tonight, just in case those kids get caught and lead the cops back here. There's a false wall in the closets you can hide in."

I saw Octavia reach for Jasper's hand before I followed Rose up the stairs. She was just going into her bedroom when I stopped her.

"Wait up."

She turned around in the doorway, a curious look on her face instead of the scowl I was becoming used to. "Yes?"

"I just wanted to say thank you. For letting all of us stay here, complete strangers. Those kids were starving. It's just nice of you, that's all."

Rose shook her head, not breaking our eye contact. "No, that's called being a human being. We survive when we stop being selfish and reach out to help those in true need instead."

My defenses kicked in automatically. "Are you making a point here or just refusing to accept a thank you with just a polite 'you're welcome'?"

Rose's face stayed frozen. "You are tough, Clarke Griffin, but being feisty isn't going to save your life. Putting other people's needs and feelings ahead of your own is what will make you become a real leader."

"I don't want to be a leader," I protested.

"A true leader doesn't choose the job; they're just good at it. You could be, if you wanted to." She stepped inside the room and closed the door without another word.

I shuffled down to Bellamy's room, crawling into the big soft bed and wondering what Rose meant by her words. I didn't think I'd demonstrated a single quality of a leader, so there was no way this obscure group of kids were expecting me to be. If anything, Bellamy or Miller would be easier to 'follow'. I was just hot headed and impulsive.

I was lying flat on my back, staring at the ceiling, when Bellamy came in.

"What's wrong?" He sat on the side of the bed and started unlacing his shoes.

"Your grandmother is bizarre," I said rudely. "She told me I'm a leader. That's insane, right?"

Bellamy shrugged and kicked his shoes off before unbuttoning the shirt he'd worn all day. "I don't know insane is the right word. I know you've got a way about convincing people to do whatever you want."

I slapped my hand on the mattress next to me. "I do not! I am not a manipulative little bit…"

He cut me off. "That's not what I meant. I mean you always get what you want. If that means you know the right moment to throw the perfect tantrum or the right time to bat your eyelashes, it still works for you. When's the last time your parents disciplined you and you actually stuck to the rules?"

I rolled my eyes. He had a point on that one. Another thought occurred to me and I couldn't stop the grin from covering my face. "Jasper challenged me to hide and seek in the woods tomorrow."

"Oh? You think you can win? He spent a lot of time hiding in those woods when he was dating my sister."

I took his warning as more of a challenge. "I think I'm willing to place a pretty serious bet that I can hide for so long he gets bored and comes home for a cookie to sooth his feelings of abandonment."

Bellamy laughed and crawled into bed after putting on a pair of flannel drawstring pajama bottoms. "Okay," he said, pulling the covers up over our bodies. He propped up his head again and brushed some stray hairs out of my face. "I say he finds you in less than fifteen minutes."

I stuck my hand out to shake his. "Deal. What do I get if I win?"

He shrugged. "Whatever you want I guess."

I thought about it for a minute, wondering what to choose since he didn't seem like he thought I'd actually win. "If I get _anything_ I want, I guess I don't have to specify beforehand. After all, you don't seem worried that you'll lose."

"I'm not." He turned over and faced away from me. I could feel his light chuckle as he drifted off to sleep.

I tried to sleep, but my mind kept worrying about the other kids who were still out there. I could easily imagine soldiers with big guns marching them toward a big, black truck. I pictured them sleeping against trees, huddling together against the wind that was picking up outside. I sincerely hoped I was wrong.


	12. Chapter 12

Bellamy was already up and out of the room when I finally opened my eyes. The house was quiet, but I could hear an occasional pop outside like they were shooting again. I groaned and stretched my muscles before getting dressed. I wasn't sure when my big adventure with Jasper was going to start, but I figured I should get ready for it just in case. I chose a pair of dark leggings that would cover my skin without hindering any movement and topped it with an oversized camouflage t-shirt from Octavia's dresser. I tied the excess material into a knot that rested at my waist and pulled on my tennis shoes. The lug soles of my boots would have been better for protecting my feet against sharp rocks or sticks, but the tennis shoes had a sole flexible enough to help climb if I found the need. I pulled my hair up into a messy ponytail and headed down the stairs.

Outside, Rose and Miller were nowhere to be seen, but Bellamy, his sister and Jasper were back by the barn, shooting targets with the shotgun.

Jasper whistled when I walked over to them. "Looks like someone's ready to go hunting."

"I assume you're talking about yourself?" I countered.

Octavia shot Bellamy a questioning look. He filled her in. "Jasper challenged Clarke to a game of hide and seek."

"Oh this should be interesting," Octavia laughed. "You two go ahead. We'll see you in twenty minutes."

"I only gave her fifteen," Bellamy laughed.

I put my hands on my hips and pouted. "Do I have no one in my corner?"

"I'll place a bet on the girl," Rose said, waddling toward us. "Jasper's too confident. That's always an early sign of defeat." She handed me a bottle of water and few protein bars. She reached around her neck and pulled off a chain that held a silver whistle. She handed it to Jasper. "Just blow real hard when you give up. Did you two set up ground rules?"

Jasper shook his head and put the necklace on. "I didn't think she'd actually do it, so there wasn't really a reason to."

"Noon," Rose commanded. "If it's noon and you still haven't found her, you give up."

I shrugged my shoulders. "Sounds okay to me. Do I get a head start or are we going to start with a game of tag first?"

"You think a group of armed soldiers are going to give you a head start?" Jasper asked with a mischievous grin. "Isn't that the purpose of this little exercise?"

Oh crap, was the only thought that entered my mind when I bolted without notice. I headed straight for the cornfield, just like the other day when I'd run away from Bellamy. I could hear Jasper running after me, but it didn't sound like he was moving as fast as I was. I cut over a few rows every few steps, dodging around tall stalks and doing my best not to knock so many down that I'd leave an obvious trail.

Once I got far enough away that I couldn't hear him anymore, I was tempted to slow down. I might not have been able to hear Jasper, but I could still hear Bellamy and Octavia cheering him on. That alone pushed me farther, even when my lungs started to pinch from the exertion. It couldn't have taken long for me to clear the confines of the cornfield. I paused at the edge, calculating which way to go in order to get to tree cover the fastest. If I headed west, I'd find the oak tree and could hide back down in the tunnel. Jasper knew where the other end was, maybe he didn't know about this end.

I headed west, but kept myself a few rows inside of the corn, just in case he came out. I couldn't hear Bellamy or Octavia anymore, so I figured they either got tired of yelling or found something better to do with their time. As far as I looked, I didn't see the shack or the oak tree. In a split second decision, I left the cover of the field and darted across an old, unused service road into the tree line. Most of the growth was weak and spindly. There was no way any of them would carry my weight if I tried to climb up. My feet crunched against the leaves and fallen sticks and a rabbit jumped out of the undergrowth, scaring me half to death. He scurried away into the field and I went in the opposite direction, deeper into the trees.

The woods got thicker the farther I went and the ground started to slope unevenly. A few times, I lost my footing and once I slid onto my butt. Using a sapling, I cursed in my head and pulled myself up. Mud caked my hands and I wiped them off as well as I could onto my legs. When I looked down, I noticed that my pants were camouflaged a little bit now. Ahead of me, I could hear the trickle of a stream and I made my way toward it. Somewhere behind me, I thought I heard movement, but I didn't see anything when I looked. Pushing on, I crossed the creek with a well-placed leap and started climbing the slope on the other side. It was a little more difficult to go up than it was to come down, but I made it. Slipping and sliding the whole way, I used saplings and handfuls of earth to pull myself up over the edge of the ravine.

Once I reached the top, I looked back and caught a glimpse of Jasper's red shirt. Someone should've informed him that red heads should never dress to match their hair. I almost laughed, but kept silent and crouched down. Looking up into the sky, I could see the clouds were turning gray and getting fluffier. If it got any worse, I wouldn't be able to see the sun and guess what time it was. An hour had passed and my muscles burned. Not with exhaustion, but excitement. I had to stop and make a plan. The red shirt was going in the opposite direction, but that didn't mean he wouldn't turn around and come back.

Crouching down against the ground, I watched Jasper through the growth and saw how easy it was to spot his bare face and arms. I ran my hands across some of the mud on my pants and rubbed it on my arms and face. With a satisfied smile, I got up and moved as quietly as possible, away from my hunter. When I'd gone a few yards, I heard the splashing of water and knew Jasper had crossed the creek.

"Oh Clarke!" he called out, taunting me. "Come out, come out, wherever you are!"

I stopped dead in my tracks and watched him at the creek bed. He was studying the ground in front of him carefully and smiled wide when he reached down and grabbed a sapling that I'd pulled out of the dirt. He looked up and scanned the area. I ducked just before his eyes shifted in my direction.

I tried not to panic. I had to think clearly. What did I do when the cops busted me in the warehouse? I went up. Looking around, I saw a few trees that looked like they would hold me and I quietly moved toward them. My heart raced Jasper's footsteps as he slowly moved in my direction. The lowest thick branch was just out of arm's reach, so I had to either find a new tree or jump. If I missed, he would hear me land against the leaves and the game would be over.

Taking a deep breath, I pushed myself off the ground with all my strength. It had to have been sheer willpower that allowed my fingertips to grab onto the thick branch. I kicked my feet into the tree trunk and swung myself up. The acrobat classes I took when I was a kid paid off, I thought when I balanced myself in the joint between the branch and the trunk. I looked up and saw several branches that could hold my weight and started climbing. At one point, my foot skidded across the tree trunk and sent a chunk of rotting bark to the ground below me. I froze and looked for Jasper.

He was headed straight toward me, but I'd picked such a perfect climbing tree that there were solid places to step branching out in all directions. As he came closer, I moved myself to the other side of the tree, keeping the bulk of the trunk between us. He moved faster and it was luck on my part that a squirrel jumped out of the neighboring tree. He jumped back a bit and must've thought the noise I'd made was the animal. His gaze turned up and he quickly scanned the tree I was in. I pressed myself so close to the trunk, I felt like I was becoming a part of it. He must not have seen me because when I dared to look down, he was scanning the floor and crouched down.

Was that a shoe tread he was looking at? It must've been, because when he stood up, he was wearing the world's cockiest grin again. Too bad he was cockier than he was sneaky, I thought as I watched him move on in the direction I'd been headed before climbing up. After he'd moved on far enough that I couldn't see his shirt anymore, I carefully climbed out of the tree and let myself drop to the ground. I was light on my feet when I landed and headed back the way I'd come.

All of the way back.

Over the creek.

Through the sparse woods.

Across the service road.

Back into the cornfield.

I figured I could've stayed in the tree until noon, but that wasn't really challenging enough. Instead, I worked my way down the rows until I could see the roof of the barn looming ahead of me. When I got the edge, I saw Bellamy and Octavia sitting on the ground. They were lost in conversation, absently plucking grass from the ground and letting it fly in the breeze. I stayed in the field and made my way back toward the old garage when Miller was working on the four-wheeler. There was a broken window at the back of it, facing the field, and I had to stand on my tip-toes to see inside.

Miller was alone, bent over the vehicle with a wrench in his hand. He was cussing up a storm and the muscles in his forearms bulged as he used all his strength to loosen the nut. I had a brilliant idea and crept around to the front of the garage, making sure no one saw me.

"What the hell happened to you?" Miller looked up and saw the dried mud that covered me.

"I'm winning a contest," I whispered. "Where's Rose?"

"She went back to the house to look for maps. What's the contest?" He handed me a rag that was covered with old grease stains.

I wiped the excess dirt from my face, trying not to breath in the fumes that were assaulting my senses. "Hide and seek in the woods. Jasper thought I couldn't hide from him until noon."

"You're not in the woods. Isn't that cheating?" He was still paying attention to me but turned back to the machine and unscrewed a few more nuts and bolts.

"Nobody ever declared a rule that I had to stay in the woods. It's all Jasper's way of proving that I need to train or some crap like that. He doesn't think I can hide from the soldiers if we get caught out there."

"So what's the purpose of you coming here then? Why not stay in a tree and hide until noon just to prove him wrong?"

I went over and handed him the screwdriver that was just out of his reach. "Well let's say we're at the prison and we're about to unlock the doors?"

"I'm listening…"

"I think it's a pretty valuable skill to be able to run far enough away to get the soldiers away from our target. I think this is proving that I can evade detection and come back to finish the mission."

Miller stopped twisting the screwdriver and grinned at me. "Never mess with us skate park kids, huh?"

I slapped him a high five. "You know it. Now at noon, I get to haul you out of here and you get to be my hostage."

"You planning to take hostages at the prison?"

"I'm planning to do whatever we have to get the kids out of there."

Miller glanced at his watch. "Well we've got about two hours before it's time for me to be your captive, so I guess you get to be a grease monkey."

For the next two hours, I helped him however I could. Once, Rose came in to bring him a cold glass of lemonade and I hid behind an old truck, but no one ever caught me there. When I heard the loud whistle blow, I laughed. Miller dropped the wrench and held his hands out in front of himself. "I guess it's time for you to take me to your leaders."

I playfully pushed him out in front of me and he threw an arm around my shoulder. We walked over to the bunker barn where all three Blakes had been joined by a very tired looking Jasper. "You lookin' for someone?" Miller called out to them.

Rose clapped her hands together and didn't try to hide her excitement. Octavia's jaw dropped and I could see Bellamy was biting the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling.

"How long have you been back here?" Jasper demanded to know.

"About two hours?" I looked up at Miller. "Two hours?"

He nodded with a raised eyebrow and consulted his watch again. "Yup, two hours," he confirmed. "You should've been there, man. She came barging in, took me hostage, and demanded I let her help rebuild a carburetor."

"Is that what that was?" I kept my tone completely serious, my face blank.

"It was a carburetor." His deadpan was just as perfect as mine.

"Hmm, I'm pretty handy, huh?"

"Truly, you are." He looked over at the group and tried not to laugh. The infuriated look on Jasper's face was all it took to make him fail. He pulled his arm off of me and sauntered toward the house. "How's lunch doing Gramma Rose?" he called out over his shoulder.

With shaking heads and laughter, everyone trailed into the house to have lunch. Instead of eating, I went upstairs to shower off the mud. I'd just finished getting dressed when Bellamy walked in with a plate in one hand and a glass of lemonade in the other.

"Well done, Clarke. Who would've thought you'd stay close to the barns?" He set the food down and sat on the bed next to me. Taking the brush out of my hands, he began twisting my wet hair into a braid.

"I didn't," I laughed. "I was on the other side of a ravine, halfway up a tree when I decided to come back. He almost caught me. He stood right under me for a few minutes."

"I guess you proved you're quite capable, didn't you?" He dropped the braid over my shoulder. "So what did you win?"

"Just bragging rights, I guess. We didn't specify a prize or anything."

"No, but we had a bet. What do I owe you?"

I turned around and grinned. "I'll let you know when I think of the perfect thing."

Bellamy rolled his eyes. "Why don't I doubt that?"

When we heard the rumbling of engines coming up the lane, I jumped up and threw my stuff into a dresser drawer. He smoothed the bed and grabbed the damp towel that was on the floor. I could hear footsteps running around frantically downstairs. Octavia's light footsteps stomped up the stairs and her bedroom door slammed.

Bellamy ushered me toward the closet.

"What about the guys?" I asked, wanting to make sure everyone else was okay, too.

"They'll be okay, just get in there!" I stepped inside the closet, but didn't look for the secret panel yet. Bellamy went over to the window and chanced a peak through the curtains. I could see his whole body relax. "Who is it?" The rumbling was closer and I was nauseous.

Bellamy left the window. "They're back." He took my hand and pulled me toward the door. "Let's go see what they found."

Harper, Monty, and Jackson were climbing off of two four-wheelers by the time we got to the front porch. Barley was riding in Jackson's lap and he jumped to the ground, his tail wagging excitedly. All eyes turned to the new kid who pulled up behind them riding a motorcycle. Dressed from head to toe in black leather, there was a large pack strapped to his or her back. I couldn't tell if it was a guy or a girl. Every inch was covered and sitting on the motorcycle, it was hard to see a body type. Whoever it was, I was instantly reminded of an action movie badass.

When the rider dismounted and removed the helmet, her long brunette hair cascaded down her back. Her face was beautiful, with angular features and gorgeous brown eyes. She was taller than me and built like a supermodel. I could see all of the guys giving her looks of approval and I'd never seen a grin so big on Bellamy's face before. Instantly, my blood boiled.

"Roma!" He yelped and ran to her, hugging her so hard they spun in a circle.

My stomach did a somersault when she grabbed his face between both hands and kissed him right on the mouth.

He pulled away from her, and I wasn't sure which was pinker, his blush or the lipstick smudges that were on his face.

"What are you doing here?" He asked excitedly. "Where've you been?"

"Oh you know, here and there. I stumbled upon your little friends and they told me you were out here." She looked over and acted like she hadn't noticed us all standing around like idiots. When her eyes settled on Rose, the snotty look on her face got even worse. "Rose, so good to see you again." She went over and gave the woman a light peck on each cheek. "I sure hope all these little kids haven't been giving you too many problems."

I seethed. Who the hell was she calling a little kid? Every one of us here was old enough to vote, even Harper who was a few months younger than me.

Roma didn't wait to hear Rose's reply before she turned her sights on me. "You must be Dr. Griffin's wayward child. Gina told me all about you."

Bellamy same over to make some awkward introductions. After calling us each out by name, he finally filled in one of the blank spaces. "Do you remember the girl I worked with named Gina? This is her sister."

I remembered Gina just fine. She was mousy and nerdy and clearly not as beautiful. I also remembered the parting moments she shared with Bellamy right before she left.

"Is that all I am, Bell? Just Gina's sister?" Roma laughed and sauntered toward the house, hooking her arm through Bellamy's. "I've got some stuff to show you that just might knock your socks off Sweet Thing."

Everyone else filed back into the house, obviously mesmerized by the way she shook her hips going up the steps. Octavia was the only one who hung back.

"Awkward much?" She gave a lame attempt to lighten the moment. "If it makes you feel any better, I hear her boobs are fake."

"Yeah, I'm all jolly now that I know that, thanks. I take it there's a history with them?"

Octavia nodded, but slowly. "Yeah, and I really hope it stays history. She's a computer whiz who helped your father a few years ago build a database. That's how Gina got her job there."

I couldn't suppress my groan. I wanted to ask how deep the history was, but was too afraid of the answer to do it. "I guess we need to re-do the sleeping arrangements if there's another person to fit now."

"Well look who's acting like the alpha dog all the sudden. Don't let her get to you." She nudged her shoulder against me. "Hating won't make her go away. Let's go see what everyone found."

Begrudgingly, I followed Octavia into the house. Everyone was clustered in the living room, examining the items that were brought back from town. There were several items of clothing, a few canteens, and two compound bows with a handful of arrows. Harper had a bag stuffed full of stuff they'd stolen from the pharmacy and they were busy laughing and telling stories of how they almost got caught a few times but managed to get away.

She motioned for me to come over to catalog her loot. "I figured since your parents were both doctors, you'd know how to use all this. There wasn't much left, but I grabbed what I could." She had two large bottles of white pills, some aspirin, a few rolls of gauze bandages with tape, several tubes of antibiotic cream, a dozen disposable syringes, and some small glass vials. I read the label and saw the vials were filled with insulin.

"Is someone diabetic?" I held up one of the bottles.

"I didn't know what they were." She reached into her pocket and pulled out some blister packs of tiny blue pills. "I got these too. I didn't know if anyone needed them or not."

They looked just like the prescription I had taken for a few years to regulate my monthly cycle. I shook my head but Octavia helped herself to a few of them and winked at Harper.

I could hear them whispering about something, but couldn't hear the words. Whatever they were saying caused them both to giggle and blush.

I tossed the vial back into the bag. "That might come in handy, so don't get rid of it anytime soon."

"Check this out," Monty announced. He pulled a paper-thin plastic jacket out of his pack and shook out the wrinkles. "It's water-proof so we can go out in the rain if we need to."

I figured if we needed anything and it was raining, we could just send Roma out for it. And then hide all the mint stuff before she came back inside.

I noticed she and Bellamy weren't in here, so I wandered toward the kitchen. Sure enough, Bellamy was sitting at the table, excitedly looking at something on Roma's laptop. She was standing behind him, her hands on his shoulders. As I stood there silently watching, I could see her fingers were lightly rubbing his neck and every now and then, she would point at something on the screen. Every time she did, she would lean forward, pressing her body against his in a seductive way. I could see their lips moving, so I knew they were talking, but the anger inside of me was too deafening. I couldn't hear a thing. Even when she was leaned over him… and he turned his head just so… and their faces almost touched again and…

I was about to turn and stomp away when Bellamy noticed I was standing there. "Clarke, come check this out!"

The girl curled her upper lip when I came closer and stood near enough that I could see the computer screen. I could see nothing but big green blotches with little dark spots here and there.

"Isn't it cool? This is real time, too!" He was like a little kid on Christmas morning, excited about a new toy.

"What is it?" I asked, bending forward to get a better look.

Roma looked at me like I was the stupidest person on the planet, but Bellamy wasn't condescending at all. "It's a satellite map. Roma found access to one of the European satellites and they're scanning America, too."

"Isn't it dangerous to do that here? I mean, Rose said the phone was a one-time shot and that's it because the army could trace it."

Roma's eyes almost rolled out of her head and her fingers gripped Bellamy just a little bit tighter. "That's because Rose's silly little phone isn't hacked to bounce all over the world before it comes back here. But this is. You've got about a half hour of internet access before anyone will trace it back to this country, let alone this house."

In spite of the fact that I hated her, I was actually interested now. "You have complete internet access here?"

Bellamy zoomed out, scanned the entire state of Illinois until he reached the Quad Cities and then magnified it again. I pulled a chair closer and sat down to get a better look. Bellamy scooted his seat to the side, not noticing the displeased look on Roma's face. The images were clear enough that we could see people walking around on the streets. The screen jumped from one still frame to another, but it was quick enough that it reminded me of those little flipbooks all the kids used to make in grade school.

"Holy crap," I said. Bellamy agreed.

There was a tall metal fence surrounding the nuclear facility. I could see razor wire twisted high above it and a wall of soldiers dressed in white safety suits. There were signs all over behind them, but the angle wasn't right so I couldn't read them. I recognized the bright yellow color though and felt it was safe to assume they were Radiation Warning signs. I didn't see anyone else out walking the streets in the whole town except for the figures that moved inside the perimeter of the fence.

Soldiers dressed in black armed with big guns marched alongside men and woman in normal street clothes. None of them were wearing so much as a facemask you'd wear while painting, let alone a full contamination suit. When he zoomed the image back out, I could see a huge crater in the ground. It looked like an entire building had been leveled, the cement blocks still in the process of being removed.

"There's two reactors," Bellamy said, tapping the screen at two different places. "We were right, neither of them look damaged. This whole thing is a lie." He zoomed way out and moved toward the east coast until he found the area where one of the other supposed attacks happened. "This is the North Anna Station. Nothing's hit here, either." He turned and looked at Roma, a new hope in his expression. "Do you think Gina is okay?"

Roma shrugged. "I have no idea. Her phone isn't working and short of driving out there and looking in person, there's no way to tell. That's where I was headed when I stopped in here to check up on you."

"Are you leaving soon?" There was a hint of disappointment in Bellamy's voice. I prayed she would say yes.

"I'll hang out as long as you want me to, Sweet Thing." She playfully taped his nose and sauntered over to the refrigerator.

I rolled my eyes and turned my attention back to the computer.

"What about email?" I asked. "Can we send a message to my dad?"

"If he's working with the government, I'm sure all of his communications are closely monitored." Bellamy gave me a pitiful look. "Sorry."

"Well what about your dad? Has he written back yet? Remember, you sent him an email that first day?"

Judging by the look on his face, I guessed he had indeed forgotten about it. He quickly accessed his email account and scanned through the junk mail. There wasn't even a read receipt for the message he'd sent out a month ago.

"Tick tock." Roma clicked her tongue and pointed at her wrist as if she was wearing an invisible watch. "You've got about ten minutes left."

"What about your brother? Can you email him?" I didn't know what else to suggest.

"They'd be watching him, too. But…" Bellamy's fingers flew across the keyboard. He pulled up a website that allowed the internet to make voice phone calls. He turned the volume up on the built in speakers. Entering his brother's phone number from memory, he sat back and took a deep, nervous breath before his shaking finger hit the send button.

We could hear the line ring several times before a male voice answered. "Midwest Corrections. Sergeant Blake."

Bellamy froze. All the color had drained from his face. I leaned toward the table. "Is this line secure?" I asked.

"Yes, who is this?" Finn's voice dropped to a hushed volume.

"There is a rebel gathering planned for two days from now at dusk in the woods behind the Central Mall." I shrugged my shoulders when Bellamy gave me the most confused look ever.

"Who is this?" Finn repeated himself. "Do you know who will be there?"

My mind raced, trying to think of generic enough names that would make me sound credible without actually identifying anyone real. "A group from New York," I said confidently. "They've contacted my brother and asked him to join the cause."

"And you're sure they will be there in two days?"

"Positive." I reached over, hit the end button and closed down the internet program.

"What the hell was that all about?" Roma scolded. "You could've at least given Bell a chance to talk to his brother, maybe ask where he was and if he's okay."

I stood up so fast the chair fell behind me. "Look, I don't know who the hell you think you are, but 'Bell' can rest assured that his brother is fine. He's at the prison, as indicated when he answered the phone and announced he'd gotten a recent promotion, which is a safe assumption since his name tag just said officer the last time we saw him. Letting him know about a fake meeting is a good way to see if he shows up and whether or not he brings a truckload of soldiers with him. It's the perfect way to see what side he's on without Rose putting herself and Harper in danger to go looking for him. And I shut it down because you said we had ten minutes left and I don't exactly trust you, so better safe than sorry."

Bellamy tried to grab my hand but I pulled away from him. "If you have anything else useful to offer, how about you just spill it instead of sitting here oozing with your disgusting attempt to relive the good ole days with your Sweet Thing."

"Awe," Roma taunted and stepped right up to me so that her stupid fake boobs were practically touching me. "Is the little girl feeling insecure?"

"Not now, not ever." I gritted my teeth and clenched my hands. She might have started to get the best of me, but I wasn't going down that road. I'd seen girls act like fools over petty jealousy and the honest fact was that I had no reason. Bellamy and I were just friends, but that didn't mean I liked seeing this tramp hanging all over him.

"Good," Roma spat. "You're going to need every ounce of self-worth you've got if you're gonna make it out there. I've been there, little girl, and it's not pretty. You'll have to grow up if you're going to convince people that you don't belong in a detainment camp."

"Or I could just sleep with them," I countered. "I'll bet that method has worked for you just fine."

"Bell?" Roma seethed. "I suggest you put this child in her place before I leave. Which you don't want, because I have more information that you need."

Bellamy stood up and pulled me away from her. "Is this necessary, Roma? She didn't know…"

Roma's evil smile split her face in two. "Oh I can only imagine the things she doesn't know. The real question is whether or not _you_ want to know, now isn't it Bell?"

Bellamy gave me a pained, apologetic look. I glared at her smug smile and walked out of the room before he could dismiss me.

Harper, Monty, and Jackson had disappeared upstairs to take showers and get some rest since they'd been up all night. Everyone else was sitting in the living room, trying to pretend they didn't know what just happened on the other side of the wall. I went out to the porch and sat on the swing, wishing it was nighttime so I could see the stars. Instead, it was late afternoon and all I had to look at were ugly gray clouds against a brilliant blue backdrop.

I tried to look on the bright side of things. There wasn't a nuclear explosion at the plant, so there was a good chance Atom was actually still alive. Jackson and Miller were both confident that Atom was still alive, just imprisoned. And I knew Murphy was alive, even if he was fighting on the wrong side now. My parents weren't dead, so really, my life wasn't a whole lot different now than it was a month ago. I just had less paper cuts and less dance parties.

I looked down at the tattoo on my arm and sighed. Sometimes, I believed Atom and Murphy were right when they said it meant I had forever independence. Now was a good time to embrace that again, I told myself. With nothing else to do that was productive, I pushed myself up and went to the gun shack. I used my irritation to an advantage and threw myself into loading as many shotgun shells and I could manage to do. I only cracked three of the hulls from pressing down to hard. The manual repetition was a good way to calm down and think. By the time I heard the footsteps above me, I was level-headed again.

Bellamy handed me an empty hull. I filled it carefully and pulled the level down, packing and capping it. "I'm really sorry about her. She's something else, that's for sure."

I shrugged. "It's all good. She's got information you need and a way to access the outside world. That's all that's really important, right?"

"It's not the only thing that I care about Clarke." Bellamy took my hand in his, stopping any and all progress.

I took a deep breath and blew it out hard. "Her boobs are fake you know."

Bellamy laughed. "I hadn't noticed. I guess I'd have to be interested enough to look."

I rolled my eyes. Even I was interested enough to look. "I think we need a party tonight."

He let go of my hand and returned to the task in front of us. "Really? And what purpose would that serve?"

"Several actually." I pressed down on the new round and tossed it into the basket. "First of all, I think we could all use a night to relax, have fun, and laugh. And you should invite Roma to join us. As your date."

"What?" He dropped the shell casing on the table and fumbled to pick it up again.

"She's obviously wanting to rekindle whatever history you two have. She also has the laptop and we all know how much we can use it. Not only can we contact people other than the strays that wander onto your farm, but we can monitor the prisons and download maps."

"And you think if I pretend to be romantically interested in her, she'll do what? Leave the computer with us?"

"No," I shook my head. "I think it will give her a reason to stay here instead of heading east to look for her sister. We need her here, whether I want to be her new best friend or not."

Bellamy shook his head. "Roma might not remember four years ago, but I do. I don't think I could…"

I turned and smiled at Bellamy. "Sometimes a sacrificial lamb is necessary." I stood on my tip-toes and kissed him lightly on the cheek. "And who knows, maybe I might learn to like her, even if I never trust her."

"And what about you?" He wrapped his arms around me and hugged me against his chest. "You can't sleep at night when you're alone. If you want me to pretend to like her, she isn't going to want you sleeping in my bed at night."

"No worries, Sweet Thing." I turned back to my work. "I'll figure something. Maybe your Gramma likes to cuddle."


End file.
